


Far Horizon

by iblankedonmyname



Series: Ids, Egos, Superegos [3]
Category: Farscape
Genre: Bombs, Children, Enemies to Friends, Family Drama, Gay Panic, Gen, God Complex, M/M, Masturbation, Pining, Scorpius PoV, Sexual Fantasy, Suicidal Thoughts, Unrequited Crush, Wormholes, black holes, unreliable narrators
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-22
Updated: 2020-04-23
Packaged: 2021-02-25 10:02:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 6
Words: 39,654
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22354390
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/iblankedonmyname/pseuds/iblankedonmyname
Summary: Ten years after the Peacekeeper Wars, the Nebari Establishment want Scorpius. The Nebari Resistance want to know why. While John Crichton just wants him out of his house.A bad-to-worse journey that spirals out of control. Unlikely companions. Galactic pestilence. Multi-dimensional beings. Castles in the sky. And the chance to start again as friends.
Relationships: John Crichton/Scorpius (Farscape)
Series: Ids, Egos, Superegos [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1596439
Comments: 31
Kudos: 17





	1. The Home

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I finished this story and THEN found out the Rockne S. O'Bannon wrote his own epilogue/sequel called Horizons. I find this amazing and honestly a little creepy. If you thought I was riffing off of it, I wasn't originally, but I felt that I needed to bring up this shared consciousness weirdness. Enjoy the story!

Scorpius woke abruptly. He had awoken on his own volition. There wasn’t a single person in the room. A small window near the ceiling was the only light source, and judging by the cement walls, the tiny window, and the red-lit lock on the door, the room could be a prison. However, the room couldn’t have been a prison. No prison in Scorpius’s experience had books, a paper lantern, a comfortable bed, bulk bags of root vegetables, or wax pencils littering a threadbare rug. The door lock would be easy to bypass, but he wasn’t sure what would greet him on the other side. Predictably all jailers would show themselves eventually. Scorpius would wait.

In the meantime, he attempted to remember how he ended up in this unfamiliar place. It wasn’t easy to parse. What he remembered were brief flashes of places and people, and often without his full cognitive abilities.

Unable to string a timeline from his obviously hobbled brain, he instead focused on remembering the last time he was conscious, able, and mentally clear. It felt like ages ago, but it was when he was working in the lab on the Nebari homeworld developing a very complex and odd device. He had worked on this project for many cycles, but only within the last cycle did he learn that this project was the trigger to a disease distributed around the territories over decats. Anyone with the disease would become susceptible to suggestion once the trigger was activated. The application of this technology was brilliant. Scorpius respected the dedication to simplicity and nonviolence, but the idea was despicable. A whole territory brainwashed struck him as worse than murdered.

He kept on task, finished the trigger, blew up the facility, and absconded with the project. The Establishment had a wide reach, there were few places he could hide, but there were plenty of places to hide the trigger. Everyone that knew what it looked like were dead. All those decats spreading the disease would be meaningless without the trigger. It could never be remade. He had used the only one in the universe.

When the Nebari caught him, they weren’t interested in torture. It wasn’t in their code. And this was where his memories became cloudy. However, small prison cells stocked with vegetables and books weren’t in their modus operandi either. The lock was too simple as well. Perhaps he was sold? But that wasn’t right, he killed other Nebari. He hid a tool they commissioned. A criminal like that wouldn’t be simply sold to another. There was no way he could have avoided mind cleansing when he had useful information the Establishment wanted and had a morally corrupt history. Scorpius imagined he would be a juicy success to the Nebari elite if he could be stabilized. He wasn’t sold.

Perhaps he was rescued? Now, this idea had some possibilities. The Nebari had enemies. Primarily the biggest enemy the Nebari possessed were their own disgruntled population. The revolution had been growing for cycles.

And the lock light turned green. Scorpius had always felt he was difficult to surprise. Most that spent any time in his company would agree. However, he was unable to shutter his surprise to see the door open to reveal John Crichton armed with a blaster and a glass of water.

“Oh good. You’re up.” He said dryly. 

Scorpius practically wheezed. “John Crichton! Why look at you!” Then he managed to contain any other embarrassing exclamations thankfully. “You were the last person I expected to walk through that door. How long has it been? Going on ten cycles I imagine.”

“I haven’t been counting the days.” He pulled over a wood seat, straddled it backward. He offered the glass which Scorpius took but didn’t drink. “You’re probably curious where you are, and I’m not going to tell you. You’re under house arrest, but since you don’t have a house, you’re under _my house_ arrest. And before you say anything about it, I don’t like it any more than you do, but the safe house is occupied and we have nowhere else to put you because no one else wants to deal with your shit. Your reputation precedes you.”

“But you do?” This is when he took a sip of the water and studied John, who hadn’t changed much beyond his graying hair and stubble. His face was etched with newlines at the edges of his eyes and over his brow, a subtle laugh line had formed. Those were things the wanted holograms in the streets never captured.

John sighed. “No, but it’s on my resume. And it's my fault you’re here. So maybe it’s my punishment. But anyway ground rules. Welcome to Chez Sun-Crichton. You don’t leave this room unless you need to use the bathroom. You don’t talk to anyone outside this room. You will have an armed guard stationed outside at all times. There are more guards outside the apartment too, this isn’t about preventing your escape, it’s really more to keep you safe. Apparently you did something so nasty to the Nebari brass that they are probing everywhere for you. Think of this stay as less of a jail sentence and more of a defensive strategy against the people that want to find you and melt your brain into goo. Savvy? Any questions? Does your brain-uh-hole still need—” He wiggled his hand over his temple “stuff?”

“Actually, no. I updated it with an air convection—”

“That’s great because now I don’t have to _actually_ care.”

Scorpius internally pouted, but he had many other questions. He knew his window to ask was always limited with John, so he started with the simple ones like who was he helping with this arrangement. It was unsurprisingly the Nebari rebels. He asked if John knew why the Establishment wanted him. John responded that he and the rebels would ‘love to know’ and if Scorpius ‘could find it in his black heart to tell them’ that would be a great reward for ‘sticking their necks out for him’. Scorpius wasn’t moved, which was when John reached his limit for Scorpius’s questions and left. The door lock blinked back to red. He hadn’t even gotten to ask why his presence here was John’s fault and punishment.

When Scorpius did take his trip out of the room with the armed guard, he was led up the steps and into an open living space where eight pairs of eyes froze in place staring at him. In the last ten cycles, John had produced three more children, and all four of them were occupying this dwelling. Scorpius had never felt more like a bug with a pin it’s back.

Meals were routine, and oddly satisfying, delivered either by John or Aeryn. Whereas John did appear affected by aging, even slightly, Aeryn was unchanged, which after 4 children was a testament to how impressive the Peacekeeper genome had become through selective, approved breeding. John was still prickly around Scorpius even after a decat, while Aeryn was calm, efficient, and unaffected. She couldn’t be prodded in the way John could, but she would answer questions if she thought the answers were unimportant to the situation. A few days in, he asked her about how domestic living was settling for a soldier.

“It’s got it’s own unique challenges, but I’m hardly domestic. We do work, Scorpius, and our work isn’t much different from what we did on Moya or even when I was a Peacekeeper. If this is a comment on the fact that we live on a planet, its convenient and stable, for now. Raising Deke in space was harder than I thought. Raising any more kids out there sounds like hell.” 

“Deke?”

“D’Argo’s kid nickname. He doesn’t like it much now.” She paused. “He’s very curious to meet you. I’m not sure if it’s something I want to encourage.”

“John would say no.”

“John has said no, but I’m not John. Are you done?” She took his plate and headed for the door.

“I don’t like children, Aeryn.” He tried simple honesty.

She gave him a genuine smile. “And suddenly, I have more reason for him to meet you.” Honesty had done nothing for these people previously. He was a fool to think otherwise.

The next day, Aeryn brought the visitor. The ten-cycle-old D’Argo was a shaggy-headed child with bright blue eyes who, when brought in the room unceremoniously, tried to feign disinterest until Scorpius accidentally caught his eye. “Did you really try to kill my dad a bunch?” Aeryn snorted.

“Yessss.” In Scorpius’s experience, the fastest method to silence a child was to scare them. “Don’t believe him?”

D’Argo seemed to become more interested instead like the sick curiosity that descended when watching a particularly poisonous spider from behind paned glass. “He exaggerates.”

Scorpius tried again. “Last time I saw him he said that you should grow up never knowing my face because it gave him nightmares.”

D’Argo snorted. “Fat lot of good that was! Your face was everywhere when I was little! By the way, I pass the guild every day. Do you know how much the Nebari want for you? We could be rich if we turned you in.”

“Don’t threaten a murderer, Deke.” Aeryn sternly reminded. D’Argo’s face pinched irritably.

“How much am I worth?” This was actually a valuable insight.

“What’s it to you?” D’Argo feigned disinterest again.

“Don’t bargain with a cheat.” Aeryn was less stern this time.

Scorpius hated children. “It’s worth nothing to me. I hope your children, Aeryn, aren’t running the streets spreading the news that you have a wanted and valuable person held prisoner in your basement. That wouldn’t end well.” He sniped at D’Argo more than at Aeryn, but he attempted to lean into the child’s expectation of man-eating lion in a cage so that this conversation could end.

D’Argo chuckled, which was strangely belittling. “Yeah not like we’re criminals or anything.” But thankfully he turned back and loped up the stairs, taking two steps at a time. To tell the other spawn, Scorpius assumed. 

Aeryn watched him go. “That wasn’t so bad now, was it?” Scorpius scowled, Aeryn’s lip curled. “And he’s right, none of them will tell anyone. The Peacekeepers never did grant us our pardon. We’ve been considered criminals for their entire lives. They wouldn’t do anything that would put the family in danger. Now eat. I have other things to do.”

When John did the next few meals, he didn’t choose to wait around for the plate and instead would collect it at the following meal. Scorpius slowly picked apart the room. It hadn’t taken him long to realize this cellar was previously one of the children’s bedrooms. This fact bothered him. However, her books were interesting, strange and frightening fairy tales from numerous cultures, and it was a _her_ , this wasn’t D’Argo’s room. He hadn’t acted like these were his possessions, even the unimportant ones. From Scorpius’s brief tours upstairs, he had noted that John and Aeryn had three daughters after their son.

She also had a box of sketchbooks, thus the wax pencils strewed about. The drawings were mostly imaginary flora and fauna with a apparent skill for younger than ten, perhaps even talent. Sometimes a page would have a pressed flower with small, messy annotations. A picture chip fell out of one, when activated it showed four unfamiliar children and one he’d seen upstairs, all smiling fakely. The picture timed out after thirty microts and the label stamp appeared briefly. ‘We’ll miss you, Zhaan. Come visit soon.’ Apparently, Aeryn and John weren’t very creative when naming their kids. The window had a view of nothing but a cobbled alley down a hill. There were five times a day the window glowed with sunlight and a warm beam struck the opposite wall of the room. The cellar had a watermark etched into the walls.

Even the tubers were inspected, which was the dullest task in his exploration, but worthwhile. From the room alone, he knew exactly what planet he was on. He could even be correct about which hemisphere and continent, but that wasn’t as important. The planet was on the border of Nebari space and Tormented Space. This building was old, which meant sentient life had lived her for a while despite its precarious location. Colony cities were more heavily policed because there was more fear. An old, established city, far away from the controlling population was a safe choice for any criminal attempting to stay hidden. It was also likely an industrial one so the backwater culture could froth over and hide the undesirables.

At night the paper lantern automatically turned on, bright at first, and then dimming to a soft flickering glow. Often he would compare this entrapment to his time on Moya. They were similar, not only due to the people, but he felt surrounded by a living thing here too.

In the morning, he awoke with a start to a rustling. Crouched on the ground in the far corner, unaware of his consciousness, was the youngest daughter. She was searching through the stack of sketchbooks in the considered way of someone trying to do something noiselessly, but like all animals with survival instincts, she snapped alert under his scrutiny. She had a lank cap of blond hair and the large green eyes of her mother, which were far from scared. Instead, her face was placid. She shuffled a sketchbook out, wrapped her sooty arms around it, snatched something in the bottom of the box. Scorpius hissed at her. She twitched, and then hissed back. They stared at each other for a microt before she slid into the room’s open heating vent and tugged it closed.

Thankfully Aeryn was on shift with meals today. He could make a request. “You know your daughter was in here this morning?”

She didn’t ask which daughter, merely cursed under her breath. “Xhalax. I’ll talk to her.”

“Are you able to keep them under control at all?”

“You’re in their space Scorpius, not the other way around. You should remember that.” The girl didn’t come back, but Scorpius had a feeling that she found what she was looking for on that initial visit and it had little to do with whatever punishment Aeryn gave her. 

Five solar days later the rain started, when Aeryn came down she brought the news that monsoon season had begun early and that he couldn’t stay in this room, it’d shortly flood. He wouldn’t be moved to a different household though, he’d be staying in the living room. Obviously he was resistant. “Is your method of torturing information out of me simply close-quarter exposure to your family? If so, I’m impressed that you’re so willing to wield your _kiddies_ like a weapon _._ ” 

Aeryn tapped her foot impatiently, a new maternal gesture. “If you want to stay down here when the room floods with wastewater, be my guest, but we aren’t serving you meals and we’re taking everything out. However, if you did share vital information _you might_ be relocated to another site.”

“You really are using the crowded squalor of this dwelling as leverage?” 

Aeryn wasn’t amused. “Why not tell us what they want with you?”

“The only part of what I could tell you that the Nebari resistance doesn’t already know is exactly what I can’t tell anyone. If I was dead, the information would be safer.”

“Then curse John for pulling you out of the stabilization tank instead of putting a blaster to your head, but you’re moving upstairs.”

This revelation silenced Scorpius on the issue. Three solar days later, the room did flood, and Scorpius was both bitter and thankful that he didn’t hold out. He cordoned off a small corner of the living space, but there was no peace. Due to the rain, all the children were inside. When Scorpius asked why they weren’t in school, he was rebuked that it was vacation season and there was no school. At first, they left him alone, but as it became more and more apparent that he wasn’t going anywhere they relaxed at his irritable presence."

Aeryn and John would take turns working for days at a time. Their work was mostly smuggling, so at any time there was often only one parent in the house. Still, the flat had only four rooms (excluding the flooded cellar), so with a household of 6 and a _guest_ , every space was occupied at any given time. Except for the blessed moment, almost daily, when Aeryn or John had to leave the apartment, so they took everyone. Obviously not willing to risk Scorpius alone in the house with their children even with more than one armed guard present. Despite the precious outings afforded to the four, the entrapment due to weather affected them negatively and they began acting out. 

Zhaan and the before-unseen daughter, which Scorpius learned was named Leslie, were always together. They were almost the same age and appearance, although Leslie had long hair she kept neatly braided and Zhaan had short. Blue eyes were the dominant trait of the household. They went everywhere together, finished each other’s sentences, built entire fantasies. However, one afternoon a fight broke out about some small slight, like an improperly borrowed shirt, and Leslie and Zhaan began a screaming match in the middle of the living room that quickly dissolved into a hissing, spitting, scratching fight. Scorpius, although his ears were ringing, would have rather walked up to the Nebari Establishment with his hands already cuffed than get involved. In the microts after the fight started, a glass on the kitchen counter exploded, but John had flown from his room and yanked the two quarreling girls apart, who immediately began shouting at John about who was at fault.

“I don’t care. Zhaan, my room.” Then at Leslie, “You stay here. Clean up that glass.”

Leslie sulked, red-faced and bruised with obvious frustrated tears stinging her eyes. Her plaited hair was disheveled, which she tried to smooth back down. The glass on the kitchen counter remade itself to Scorpius’s astonishment. She flopped down on the sofa with her arms crossed. Thirty microts passed. Sixty. At length, Scorpius asked, “What happened to that glass?” This was the first time he had anything he wanted to ask John’s progeny.

“I’m not supposed to talk to you.” Leslie didn’t turn to address him. But even without an answer, Scorpius recognized power, and the fixed glass was a considerable one. Although Scorpius had been considering what an escape from his present situation looked like for some time, where he would go, how he would get there, that glass convinced him that maybe he was being too hasty to leave. Maybe the uncomfortable occupation of his old nemesis’s living room had the potential to be fruitful. He only needed to be patient.

Over the next few days, he paid closer attention. D’Argo spent most of his time in his room listening to a strange square or outside in the entry portico talking with friends that had braved the rain. He was the eldest though, so he had the most freedom. Sometimes he’d perform small chores around the house. Aeryn and John were often working even at home, cleaning their pulse rifles, repairing this and that. For most of Scorpius’s time upstairs, John was always reading from a tablet or book. Brief peeks into his room through the door, revealed a technological mess of equipment littering a long desk, a blue-lit console screen. Sometimes neighbors would visit and ask him to repair this or that appliance, which he stashed for apparently months before getting to them. Naturally, no neighbor or friend was allowed in the house while Scorpius resided out in the open, but he overheard the transactions.

Leslie and Zhaan didn’t have another fight. They went about chattering incoherently, drawing pictures, braiding hair like they never attempted to scratch the other blind mere days before. Scorpius had heard that this is what having a sibling was like from others. The oddest one was the youngest, Xhalax, who spent whole days in the building’s air vents. After breakfast, which she ate quietly, she’d slid under the couch with a selection of tiny handmade figurines and disappear. Scorpius once watched D’Argo place a bowl of crackers and a glass of juice at the base of the couch and call out to her from the floor. Several microts later her small hands appeared, and noticing Scorpius watching her, dragged the bowl and juice under the couch only to push them out when finished. She was the first one to break the rule of speaking to the prisoner in their living room. 

It was early afternoon, and the rain was pouring again. There was no one in the living room at the time, but her, with one small figurine in each fist. “Mister, do you know what you remind me of?”

Scorpius had a hard time guessing her age. She seldom spoke, even at the dinner table, but when she did the voice didn’t match her incredibly young appearance. “Do tell me?” He was being overly polite to the children now. Overly curious. Overly considerate.

“An alligator. Do you know what an alligator looks like?”

Scorpius mentally shuffled through Earth animals and their names. He did! He did actually know what an alligator looked like. “It’s a large Earthen reptile that eats people, lives in swamps.”

The girl smiled. “That’s you. You’re Mr. Alligator man.”

He sucked his teeth for a microt. “I’ll accept it if you answer one question.”

She tilted her head like a small bird but said nothing.

“Can you explode a glass and remake it whole without touching it too?”

Her face didn’t change but she glanced around the room. When all was clear she leaned in, cupped her hand against her mouth and said. “Don’t talk about that. It’s a secret.”

“Surely not from me. I saw it happen the other day.” He had found the easiest prey. She had blindly wandered into his trap before it had even been properly set.

She looked askance at him. “Well yes. We can all do that if we wanted to, but other people can’t, so we try to hide it.”

“Never hide your talents.”

But he’d lost her a bit after her confession like she wasn’t sure she should have answered.

The days went on, and Scorpius was less loathe to leave the corner. He wandered more freely around the room, which meant each time John entered he received a suspicious glance. This meant when Aeryn finally returned from her work, seeing that he was no longer cloistered into a corner anymore, she asked that he eat dinner at the table like everyone else because it was becoming a bear to argue with D’Argo, who always wanted to eat in his room.

John regularly cooked, which Scorpius found oddly domestic for someone that was a war hero. It was also a surprise that John’s meals were more than palpable but actually good. The ingredients might be different on this side of the galaxy, but the skill itself remained. In little time he laid on the table a strange mash with a side of meat. “The market butcher said it was Tfaulder. It’s like a fish or something.”

“It’s a lizard, dad,” Zhaan answered giggling.

“Fish, lizard, as long as it tastes okay, right kid?”

And it did, which was a relief. “Tfaulders are sold to other planets pickled in brine. You can get them from practically any market off-world. I’ve never eaten a fresh one.”

“Pickled tfaulders are great. Ol’ Blindot gives one to me every time I carry his groceries as a thank you. Sorta squishy and salty.” D’Argo pinched his two fingers together pantomiming crushing a small head.

“Back when I was a Peacekeeper, they had a dehydrated protein that was supposed to taste like pickled tfaulders. It was my favorite. Never liked the real ones though.” Aeryn passed the dish on after serving herself.

“You are aware that the TX05 variety was recalled from distribution because it caused permanent blindness for certain gene carriers.” Scorpius contributed.

Aeryn laughed. “Oh? I was wondering what happened to them. I think I punched a hole in a wall when the barracks shop stopped carrying them. Every now and then I find a dusty tin of them for sale. I actually have some in the house that I keep to myself.”

“Can I try the blindness snack mom?” Leslie sniped, mouth full of food.

“No, you cannot. They’re mine. And if I see anyone poking their noses into that tin, there will be hell to pay. Perhaps worse than blindness."

“Hey, Z, pass the salt.” D’Argo stuck his hand on the table and the salt container glided into it. They both smiled at each other, but John was frowning at Scorpius.

“Stop that. We talked about this.” He said sternly his children.

“I already know about it, John,” Scorpius responded plainly. “It’s a unique talent and I wouldn’t want them to change their behavior because I have the misfortune of being here.”

The children had a sudden shared posture of agreement like it was going to be challenging for their father to change their minds.

“We’re Jedi.” Zhaan suddenly quipped to Scorpius.

“Yeah and dad’s Han Solo.” D’Argo joked.

This was another win for Scorpius, who had never won the acceptance of a hoard of children before, but from the look on John’s face, it was an absolute victory. “How does it work?”

And it was like a flood gate lifting, like all the children at the table had been holding back their ideas on the phenomenon for their entire lives. “Well, it’s probability.” “You have to know if you can move it.” “Sometimes things aren’t possible.” “Like we can’t fly or something.” “But the chances of that are like.” “If you fell off a building or something.” “But you can’t control direction in that case.” “Like its math.” “If you know the chances are good it’s easy.” “Like moving the salt is easy.” “Setting it on fire isn’t.”

And the table instantly quieted, and all the children were hyper-focused on the salt shaker. It didn’t quiver or move. It did nothing.

“See, no good. What’s the chance of salt catching on fire?” D’Argo leaned back in his chair first.

John slammed his hand on the table. “That’s enough!” 

And the children curled back over their plates and ate quietly. The dinner eventually returned to more common conversation.

After dinner, John washed dishes. Night fell. Aeryn settled everyone to sleep, but John was awake to speak with Scorpius. “What are you doing? My kids aren’t a fucking science experiment.”

“Those powers are because of your time working with wormholes. You’ve been altered.”

“You don’t know that.” John was pacing. He acted like that could be easily denied.

“Oh? And what traits when mixed of Sebaceans and Humans grants their hybrids telekinesis? Telekinesis that only works if something has a chance of working?

“They are the only human hybrids, so we don’t know that. Look. How about I ask the Nebari resistance to move you? I’ll do it. I don’t like you here. I don’t think you should be here.”

“I’m sure you’ve been asking daily. I haven’t told you anything. Why did you save me from stabilization, John?”

John’s eyes flashed, but he didn’t answer. “How about I guess what you hid and why? Then you just have to agree when I’m right and we can move you.”

This conversation wasn’t a conversation. Each party asked what they wanted and the other deflected. After going on for a frustrating amount of time, John threw up his hands in annoyance and went to bed. Scorpius watched his retreating back. It was the longest time John had spent with him. Ten years ago, he had thought about how he’d like to meet John again. This wasn’t what he wanted.

The rain had ceased, for now, and Xhalax had convinced the Scorpius to come to the roof with a guard. Aeryn was home that day, so approval from John wasn’t necessary. Before they headed for the stairs however she gathered Xhalax over and whispered loudly, “If he does anything you don’t like. Hurt him. He’s not allowed to leave the building.” Xhalax nodded seriously.

D’Argo stood on the edge of the roof, one foot braced against the low barrier wall with a bow slung over his shoulders like a military sash. Zhaan and Leslie sat on vent boxes, eagerly watching the sky. This building block wasn’t particularly tall compared to other commercial buildings in the city, but from its placement on the sloping hill that led into the city’s farm plateaus, a viewer could see over many rooftops. Xhalax, having succeeded in bringing Scorpius from the ground floor, scrambled up chipped masonry to the top of the stair shelter.

“What is this?” Scorpius asked the girl.

“It’s a game we play. Watch.”

D’Argo, Zhaan, and Leslie smiled conspiratorially at Scorpius before turning back to the edge of the roof. Zhaan held a rock. D’Argo shrugged off the bow and when it wasn’t against his shirt Scorpius noted that it was likely handmade, but by the children or another, it was impossible to say. The young ranger loaded an arrow and pulled it back.

Zhaan and Leslie smiled again. “Brother.” They began separately but fell into unison. “Brother, how certain are you?”

“I’m certain.”

“How certain?”

“Very.”

“Brother says he’s certain.” And Zhaan threw the rock she held off the roof. Seconds later, there was a dull thud and a flock of birdlike creatures shot into the air, squawking and whistling. D’Argo let the arrow fly. But the arrow missed. It passed right through a hole in the flock and traveled long out over the rooftops.

The two girls smiled at each other. D’Argo was red-faced with embarrassment. “Want to try again.” The arrow returned to the bow as if it had never been fired. 

Scorpius couldn’t understand how a boy with his specific powers could miss anything. He should be an exceptional sharpshooter even as a beginner, which he obviously wasn’t.

“Is the point of the game to not use your telekinesis?” He asked up to Xhalax.

D’Argo, still red-faced, tsked at Scorpius. “The _point_ of the game is for me to hit the piopio despite resistance.” The last word was sharp and directed at the two sisters.

Zhaan piped in. “He’s trying to land a hit. We are trying to make him miss. It’s two against one. He’s at a disadvantage. Want to try again? The PPs are back.”

“Of course I want to try again!” He pulled the bowstring back, preparing to fire.

“How certain are you?” The sisters asked.

“Very, very certain.”

Leslie threw the rock this time and the piopios rioted up into the sky. D’Argo fired, and the arrow traveled smoothly straight into the creature’s chest. It tumbled from the sky. D’Argo jabbed his bow up into the sky and hooted.

A creature appeared suddenly in Xhalax’s hands. It was a small white thing with a scaley iridescent lizard head and voluminous thin skin that would stretch taunt to fly. Its sudden appearance seemed to stun even the creature for a moment before it began to struggle against the confines of Xhalax’s clasped hands. She opened them and the piopio sprung free, squawking confusedly before returning to its hidden roost below.

“You’re too nice, Za. They’re pests. The city pays people to kill them.” Leslie chastised Xhalax, who blushed fiercely but said nothing.

D’Argo unstrung the bow. “No more today. Gonna meet some friends in the market. And yes, dad does know, Leslie. You’re such a tattletale.”

“Am not! Can we come too?” D’Argo nodded. They collected their things and exited the roof.

Xhalax and Scorpius remained. “Your powers are incredible. You must be aware of that even at your age?” Scorpius asked the girl swinging her legs on the roof.

Xhalax watched the sky, at the PPs gliding far above the roof. “When I can’t save them even when I try, it hurts more than not trying.” She frowned and struggled. “Living things are very _not_ certain.”

Scorpius considered this answer. “Why share this with me? Your father wouldn’t approve. He would think I’d plan on abusing your powers for my own benefit.”

“We agreed you are okay.” The ‘we’ meant the children.

“You are too trusting.”

She shrugged. “Do you want daddy to be right?”

Scorpius frowned. “If it came down to my life, I’d do anything. It doesn’t matter what John thinks.”

Xhalax looked back down at him. “Then you want us to like you. If you hurt us, we wouldn’t like you.”

“Ah, a person can use another person without physical harm. I could befriend you and convince you I needed money. Would you steal for me? Or I could convince you someone wanted to hurt me. Would you hurt others for me? I could be lying and when you need help, I won’t help.”

Xhalax’s small brows drew down. Scorpius thought she had dropped the conversation. It was refreshing being outside. The long days of rain had left the city looking polished. He had spent cycles on ships without wanting to go planet-side, but the last month in the small apartment with six other people often at odds with him was cramped at best. Xhalax made a noise. He looked up at her. “Maybe don’t worry about us. Maybe we are using you. Maybe you should be worried.”

Scorpius rarely laughed, but he couldn’t contain the chuckle that slithered out. “Child, you know so very little.”

The days continued on. Scorpius spent more time on the roof. The rain was falling less often now. A dry, evaporating heat was replacing the previous weather pattern. He always had the presence of an armed guard, which he didn’t mind as long as he was granted a perimeter. On this specific day, the family had gone out. One of the planet’s two suns was rising while the other was high already. The piopios were forming murmurations between rooftops. When suddenly, the guard’s comm crackled to life. “Nebari are approaching your location. Family under attack.” A jostle of noise emitted from the comm. “Kidnapped kid.” But the guard had already unholstered his blaster and was dragging Scorpius downstairs carefully stopping at each landing to peak into the empty apartment hallways.

Upon approaching the ground floor, despite his attentiveness to check, a blast slammed into his cheek and he dropped. Scorpius retrieved the gun, checked it’s load, and shot back at the assailant. The attacker crumpled.

Scorpius strode into the apartment and wasn’t completely unprepared for what met him, a room full of Nebari soldiers. However, the surprise was the soldier with his hand clasped over Xhalax’s mouth and a gun pressed to her head.

“You threaten me with a child? Have you done no research?”

“We will take any leverage we can.”

“This doesn’t seem to be up to the Nebari code, threatening children.”

“I was placed from a birthing population of 300 into the position of soldier. I am mentally suited to handle this morally. You however have likely never been threatened with a child before. If the threat fails, it means nothing to me. Drop the weapon and tell us where the trigger is?”

This was new to Scorpius. He did not want Xhalax killed, but even if he behaved, they might kill her anyway. He would only be killed if he gave them the trigger’s location and the trigger was located. Logically, he was not going to die from this encounter, but there was a strong possibility that Xhalax would. These were conundrums he wished to never have to face. He growled and raised his gun at the captain.

The Nebari captain didn’t release Xhalax. He noted the weapon Scorpius held as well as the weapons of the other soldiers. “Then I hereby begin execution of the rebel John Crichton’s kin as per my secondary mission requirements.” The gun pressed into the girl’s head. Her damp eyes flashed, and the gun suddenly dropped. She fell to the ground as the soldier collapsed brokenly to the floor.

“Run.” Scorpius snapped and the soldier’s unloaded stun shots. His body armor was holding for now. He took out three more soldiers before he was overwhelmed. Reinforcements had arrived through the back, baring Xhalax’s escape. Mauled, he was pistol-whipped to the ground. 

“Scorpius, tell us where the trigger is. We will accompany you to said location immediately, and upon discovery, you will be released.”

This was a lie. Bleeding and angry, Scorpius spit at the newly-ranked captain.

“Very well, mind cleanse doesn’t require the use of your legs.” The Nebari than had a strange look pass over his face. The other soldiers looked similar. They all looked at each other. The glimpse of realization spread across the Nebari’s collective faces like a pack of wolves had found some hidden treat. The captain snapped up. “Bring him.”

But before the soldiers could act, a wave of them collapsed in spasms. One was vomiting blood. Scorpius scrambled for one of their rifles and blasted away several more. A contingent made for the door and darted out into the street shouting into their comms. Within moments, the room was empty, save the dead bodies and Scorpius, who despite being covered in blue blood, was irrationally calm.

“Xhalax?” He called. The girl was somewhere in the room. Her presence was the only explanation for the sudden departure and the unexplained deaths. He opened cabinets, uppers and lowers, before moving the couch away from the wall. Her small body was limp and pale. Dark trails of blood were already hardening from her nostrils. Scorpius tsked. She was unresponsive but breathing. She had a pulse. He relaxed marginally before collecting her off the ground. This location was severely compromised, but he felt that the Nebari wouldn’t be returning any time soon. He had a suspicion that they received what they wanted and the primary mission was retrieval. After that perhaps they would return to finish the secondary mission.

John barrelled into the dwelling, not sixty microts later, looking wide-eyed and bloody. His other three children were windswept like a tornado had passed over all of them, exhausting them to the bone. The carnage seemed insignificant to the sick girl bundled on the sofa. John barely acknowledged Scorpius, knelt, opened her half-lidded eye, peeked, felt for a pulse, sighed, and then finally said. “Get some water and a rag please Zhaan.”

Zhaan mutely obliged.

Aeryn came running, and her look at the state of the room was restrained mortification. “We aren’t safe here.”

“They’ve all left.” Scorpius offered.

“How do you know?” John rasped nastily. He took the water and rag from Zhaan and thanked him as if anger hadn’t been in his voice microts before. He slowly cleared the dried blood on his daughter’s face.

“I watched them retreat.”

Aeryn was still on alert but was splitting her attention. “D’Argo, Zhaan, Leslie, execute an action 12. Report back in 180 microts.” The children darted off like they all weren’t exhausted. “Retreat? Or awaiting reinforcements?”

“Retreat. They got what they wanted.”

“You told them!” John was livid again.

“No, but I believe she did.” He gestured to the unconscious girl.

“That’s statistically impossible. Accurate information traveling from one brain to another would have insanely bad odds.”

“Not if it’s based on redundancy, not probability. If in the majority of universes I was mind cleansed, then common soldier’s might be very aware of what I hid and where. She would pull the probability of multiple universes instead of the probability of this singular one.”

“I’m not going to debate theory with you right now.” John hissed. “If they truly know what you know, what good are you? Leave.”

“John.” Aeryn began. 

“I don’t want to hear it.” He snapped, but then stilled, sighed. “If he wasn’t here, this wouldn’t have happened.”

“You’re aiding a rebellion, John. Their primary target was me, yes. But their secondary target was your entire family. Maybe if I wasn’t here, you’d all be dead. I was a vital distraction.”

The kids had come back carrying packs. D’Argo had an extra one. “I got Xhalax’s.” Leslie glanced around at the motionless dead. “Do we really have to leave?” 

“Yeah, we have to leave.” John bundled up his youngest tightly and rested her head on his shoulder. Aeryn dropped off alert like it was a switch and went to collect her own things. When she came back moments later, she passed John his bag. He hauled it over his opposite shoulder. Xhalax barely stirred. “Okay, we’ll head for the shipyard together, as a unit. But not you Scorpius. You stay here.”

“It’s been almost ten cycles. Get past this ridiculous anger.” Scorpius ground out.

John wasn’t moved. “You wanted freedom, Scorpy. Here it is. I lay it at your feet. Now begon.” 

Scorpius quickly added. “They’re going to Jantuga.”

There was still anger on his face, but after a tense moment, John sighed. “Aeryn, I’ll catch up.” Aeryn’s lips twisted in suspicion. “Go. I’ll be right there.” Despite her continued frown, Aeryn ran into the street with her older children.

“Okay. I’ll bite. Why are they going to Jantuga?”

A smirk crawled up his face. “You won’t find it without me.” 

John made a guttural sound in the back of his throat and practically swivelled in place. “Grr. No! We’re not taking you with us.”

“But you’re obviously going to Jantuga now. What is the point of getting there and not knowing what you’re looking for?”

“Then tell me what I’m looking for.”

“It’s a box, John.” One of the biggest changes in the last ten years is that Scorpius had discovered he liked being infuriating. It must be a trait of assimilated Harvey.

“God, I’m going to regret this. I’m already regretting this. Why is it with you I regret everything? Don’t answer that. Fine. Just fine. But I’m calling the resistance and they are going to meet with you before we get to Jantuga. Find out what we’re in for.”

“There is no time for that.” Scorpius frowned. The Nebari forces were heading their directly. They already had a head start.

John grinned slyly, raised his eyebrows. “Oh? You think that huh?”


	2. The Resistance

John hurried through the darkening streets with Scorpius trailing behind. The shipyard was down into the city center and up a low hill. As Scorpius expected, there wasn’t a Nebari in sight. They had all fled. He took the time to think about the unique abilities of John’s children. If they were drawing from the probability of multiple universes to decide their alterations, then this guaranteed that there were a finite number of universes. He had spoken to many theoretical physicists over the cycles and this information would cripple many common beliefs. It was a promising discovery.

Aeryn was waiting at the entrance to the shipyard, gun drawn. John was winded from running a metra holding a bag and the unconscious Xhalax. She took his bag. He readjusted the child on his hip and shoulder. “He’s coming with us?” She said to John after noticing Scorpius.

John shook his head, not in disagreement but more as ‘I don’t believe it myself.’

“It’s going to be cramped until we meet up with the resistance.” She led John into the hangar without acknowledging Scorpius following behind.

“I need to give them a call when I’m on board. Can you pilot?”

Aeryn chuckled. “I can pilot your mess, sure.”

The mess was a Scarran Stryker, which stopped Scorpius in his tracks. John caught his physical stutter and slowed down. “I know. It’s really something, right?”

“How did you get past the gene locks?”

“A head and a bag of blood. Don’t look so wigged out. I have other ways to bypass the locks now. Quit gawking. I thought we were in a hurry!”

The Nebari were an exceptionally intelligent and technological race, but they didn’t have the same talent for developing war machines as the Scarrans. The Stryker was still one of the fastest models of ships in the galaxy. The enforced peace hadn’t challenged their continued development. Therefore Strykers were difficult to steal and almost impossible to hack because Scarrans desperately wanted to protect their investments. If the ships were abandoned or the pilot was dead, they would explode to keep their secrets safe. Strykers remained one of the few reasons why Scarrans still sat at the top of the galactic food chain. If John expected to beat the Nebari to Jantuga in this, he wasn’t wrong. It was completely possible.

However, Scarran Strykers were not long flight vessels. They were notably small, used only for attack missions within Dreadnaught proximity. Aeryn’s description of cramped was an understatement. Scorpius found a place to sit on the ground crammed in a bathroom with the ill Xhalax and D’Argo. Thankfully the door was open. The cockpit had two flight chairs occupied by John and Aeryn for takeoff. The two other girls sat in fold-out jump seats that appeared recently installed. They hadn’t even left the planet’s airspace before Scorpius was wondering how long it would be until their rendezvous with the larger resistance ship.

D’Argo sat on the floor with his sister’s head in his lap. She was swaddled in a blanket. Some color had returned to her face.

“Is this normal?” Scorpius, with nothing to do but glower uncomfortably, asked the boy.

D’Argo wearily glanced up. He was past exhaustion and had the recent misfortune of having abandoned his likely long-time home. There was a misery deep behind his blue eyes, but to Scorpius it looked like an old wound. This wasn’t the first time he left his home in the night with only his most important possessions. D’Argo swept Xhalax’s sweat-stuck hair off her forehead. “When we push it, we get bad nose bleeds and pass out. We always come out of it eventually.”

“She killed seven men.”

“That would be ‘pushing it’, wouldn’t it?” D’Argo sounded angry suddenly. “She shouldn’t have been in that position. I was stupid.”

“Why is this your fault?”

“Cause when we go out I’m supposed to keep an eye on her. When the Nebari attacked us, I wasn’t. I thought it was going to be like any other trip to the market.”

“We’re alive.”

“Yeah but she’s hurt. And she’s going to have to think about who she’s killed. She’s only fucking five. That’s not fair.” Then he became bashful and looked away. Xhalax made a small noise, and her eyes fluttered. D’Argo’s tone changed immediately. Pet her head slowly. “Hey, lil sis. You’re okay. We got you.”

Xhalax broke out into sobs and curled into her brother’s chest. Scorpius wanted to claw his way out of the room, but he remained motionless, tried to radiate calm. After some time, she blearily sat up and rubbed her eyes. They were clearer now. “Hey, Mr. Alligatorman. You okay?”

Scorpius minutely marveled at this small hybrid creature that killed men today and appeared dead moments before asking him if he was okay. “Yes.” After a pause, he added. “Thank you.”

She smiled and then laid back down on her brother. It didn’t take long before both fell asleep. Scorpius figured he’d shut his eyes as well, try to rest. He dreamt about wormholes again, which hadn’t been the norm for cycles even while he worked on the trigger. He awoke slowly when someone tapped his boot. It was John. There was a stiffness in his limbs that suggested he had slept for quite some time. “We’re here. Time to spill the beans, grasshopper.”

“That nickname isn’t really appropriate when I’m the one educating you for once, hmm?”

John folded his arms over his chest. “Get up.” Scorpius did without additional complaint, and when they exited, Scorpius caught sight of the empty cockpit covered in labels, sticky notes, and rerouted cables, but above the front control console wiggled a dashboard hula-girl.

Scorpius blinked twice. “Crichton, have you been back to Earth?” But John was already outside. He had plans to repeat the question again once he joined him, but was distracted to realize after exiting that he was on Moya. To make the jarring similarities worse, Chiana was there to greet him, and she did so by threatening him with a knife.

“Here’s the deal Scorpius. You tell us why we’re going to Jantuga. You tell us what’s there that the Establishment want. You tell us how you’re involved. If it’s all true, we don’t gut you and throw you off this ship.”

“Are you the one in charge?” If Chiana was one of the higher-ups in the Nebari resistance, then the resistance wasn’t as organized or legitimate as Scorpius initially thought. Dread began to pool in his gut.

“Naw, my brother is.” She leaned into his space. Despite the uncomfortable proximity, the dread lifted. “I had to say all that off record. Doesn’t make it less true though. Don’t. Forget.” And she flicked the knife tip at his face before sheathing it. “Also I missed Crichton. Hey.” She threaded an arm over John’s shoulders.

“Hey pip.” He squeezed her back. “Where’d my kids get to?”

“Oh, probably with Pilot.” And the official welcoming party entered the bay with guns drawn and a Nebari that looked similar to Chiana aside from the black hair.

“Scorpius. My name is Nerri. We have heard from John that you have vital information you are willing to share with the Nebari resistance. We have already changed our heading to Jantuga, but would like more insight into what we should expect as far as opposition upon arrival. Would you follow me?”

This was the greeting he expected. He followed Nerri through the halls, but he probably could have led the way. Life had a sense of irony because they put him back in the same cell he had occupied when he lived on Moya. When he glanced back at John and Chiana, he was grinning like an idiot.

The interrogation was long. There was a lot to cover, but they started easily enough. ‘What was the box hidden on Jantuga?’ The box was a radiation trigger that activated a contagion that was spread throughout the territory using designated carriers. Scorpius was right that the resistance knew all about this problem and had been securing antibodies against it. They treated it like any other disease that came up on the normal scans. It was impossible to catch all the carriers, however, and the antibodies didn’t function as a vaccine. It could only be used as a treatment. The contagion, when triggered, would make those infected susceptible to suggestion, and the suggestion was also shared via the box’s radiation. It was an interesting method of dispersing mind control to a massive population. It meant that they could change the message to those under their control at any time, and they would only need to wait for the radiation to travel.

They even had a solution to the issue of slow-moving radioactive waves. The trigger itself was only a component in the greater machine, but it was the most valuable one. The socket was hidden somewhere on Nebari Prime, but when the box was installed, small resonators spread throughout the galaxy would act like tuning forks. The resonators would amplify the radiation and push the signal further into space. Within a few cycles, the territories would be blanketed with this radiation, which was very fast given how much space it had to cover.

Nerri raised a hand to pause him. “And you didn’t think any of this would have been helpful to tell us during your time under house arrest?”

“It might be valuable insight, but I didn’t believe this information would have been leverage enough to remove me from Crichton’s residence. If anything, having more individuals seeking answers around these topics could possibly cause more problems.”

Nerri eyed him. “In what way?”

“I made the trigger for the Nebari Establishment, and worked on other devices as well. They were not completed, to the best of my outdated knowledge.”

“You were working for the Establishment for how long?”

“Over four cycles.”

“And what other devices were you working on?”

And this is when Scorpius expected things to get loud. “Wormhole weapons.”

John ricocheted off the wall he had been lounging on in a second and slammed his hands on the table. “You absolute fuck! I knew it!”

“There are only a handful of specialists in the entire galaxy that have any tangible experience with wormholes. It’s a profitable skill set. I wasn’t going to work with the Scarrans or the Peacekeepers, for that matter. The Nebari were the only civilization offering the right price.”

“You were doing this for money!?” John looked like he was going to pull his own hair out in fistfuls.

“Well I wasn’t doing it for revenge now was I? Is that better?”

Nerri spoke softly to counteract the yelling. “I think this might be a good time to stop for today. Jantuga is three solar days away. That includes starbursts. And your requested stop, John. I need to send a few messages. Hopefully, they’ll get to their destinations before we make orbit.” He stood up. “Scorpius, you are free to move about the ship, but you are forbidden from the landing bay. If we see you there, you will be shot. Please report back here tomorrow after the morning meal.” With a pat on John’s shoulder, he left.

“I can’t fucking believe you. You saw what that thing did. That black hole would’ve destroyed everyone, everything.” John continued while Scorpius stood.

“I wasn’t selling them a tool that creates black holes. Wormholes are so very adaptable. Remember the star funnel you made that destroyed the Dreadnaught or at least,” He looked slyly at John. “You must have heard about it. Wormholes are too tempting to not continue researching. You, yourself, said you weren’t interested in wormholes any longer, but I see you’ve been to Earth. How did you manage that?”

“Fuck you. Seriously. The fact that ten years on, I still have to put up with your crap is just insane to me.”

“Why did you pull me from the stabilization facility then? If you, or anyone else, had no clue as to why I was there, there was no obvious value in releasing me.”

John grumbled. “I don’t know. Must’ve been one last hurrah from Harvey.”

Scorpius’s face stilled. “Harvey’s dead.”

“Yeah, sure. Sorry if I don’t believe you.”

“Harvey’s dead. I know what the protocols were in that last chip.”

“Yeah whatever.” And John departed the cell.

John had saved Scorpius on his own volition and was unable to explain his own motivations when asked. A warmth radiated out from Scorpius’s chest, leaving his arms and legs tingly. He clamped down on the sensation to stop it’s spread, to get rid of it, but it was there, beating out slowly. When he had assimilated Harvey he had thought that disposing of Harvey’s pesky feelings for John would be straightforward, especially when he never expected to see him again. Instead, Harvey’s infatuation had sunk into the mud and waited patiently all this time. If he could speak to Harvey now, he wondered what his clone would say about this development. He was always such an optimist. Or they’d copulate, which, at this point, would be appreciated, even sought.

It was strange being back on Moya, wandering the decks again made him feel like a specter. Revisiting the same places that had changed enough to make them foreign but not enough to stop the perpetual deja vu. The ship was filled with Nebari and other rebels that had joined their cause. John and Aeryn must’ve retired to their quarters since they went unobserved during his meandering. His children were around though, Zhaan and Leslie were in the galley.

“Hey,” They said in almost unison as Scorpius walked in. He was hungry otherwise he likely wouldn’t have entered. He wasn’t sure how much time had passed between falling asleep on the Stryker and finishing the first portion of the interview. “We heard about what you did from Za.” Leslie continued.

“What exactly did I do according to her?” Scorpius wasn’t sure he did anything other than rile up the soldiers and give her a plausible means of escape.

The girls looked at each other, both were confused. “Well, you saved her.” Zhaan said.

“Your sister is more than capable of saving herself. I did little.”

“But you helped!”

“Hnn.” He shrugged. He didn’t want anyone to get in the habit of thinking he’s a savior of any kind. Suddenly ebbing his appetite held less appeal than spending a single microt longer around John’s children. He had a whole ship he could put between himself and that family. The first opportunity in over a thirty solar days to have a moment to himself and here he is, submitting to their frelling company. He left the kitchen with barely a bite of cracker.

During morning meal, he went nowhere near the galley. His hunger was irrelevant compared to his desire for solitude. He did catch the strange jarring pull of Moya starbursting, however, and then Nerri, John, and the other resistance members returned to question him about Jantuga.

“It’s out of the way on purpose.” Scorpius continued.

“Where did you hide it? Under whose care?”

“I don’t know anyone on that planet, anymore at least. I buried it in a small ghost town in the third quadrant. If someone found it by accident they won’t be alive for very long.”

Nerri leaned forward. “Why?”

“Any unsuspecting fool that opens it is going to receive a lethal dose of radiation, no matter the species. It should never be physically opened and it’s only slightly so when attached to the socket.”

Nerri made a note. “Can it be destroyed?”

“Not easily, I was unable to make it to a black hole. They were in pursuit at the time, but that is the only way it can be safely destroyed.”

“Why is it so hard to destroy? You’ve said this box is no more than six by six by six flots. Black metal in appearance and weighs about fifteen kelnes. It’s very portable.”

“It’s supposed to be portable. It’s hard to destroy because there is no handheld tool that can harm what’s inside it and it will kill anyone exposed to it if the shell is damaged.”

“To what distance is it a danger?”

“A massive one.”

Nerri put down his pen and leaned in closer. “You are being purposely evasive. What did you make this device out of?”

Scorpius sighed and leaned back in his chair. John was boring a hole in his head with his eyes. “It’s a specific star with a specific signature trapped in a dimensional anomaly.”

“You put a black hole in a box?” John spoke from his edge of the cell. He was purposely keeping his voice level. Nerri must’ve spoken to him about his outburst yesterday.

“Yes.” He tried to keep the pride out of his voice.

“And that’s not a black hole used as a weapon?”

“I’m not going to split hairs with you.”

“It’s a big fucking bomb is what it is Scorpius. How the hell did you figure that out? It’s a little above your paygrade don’t you think?”

“There was an interesting female engineer named Furlow that was brought in, since obviously, you were unavailable.” He sneered at him. “I believe you knew her. She certainly knew of you. She was quite a fascinating woman. Perhaps you’re sad to hear she’s dead.” John grit his teeth.

“What happened to the facility, to the other scientists?” Nerri was frowning now.

“Destroyed and dead. I did not want the project to be repeated.”

“Why the concern?”

“I don’t want the galaxy run by the Nebari. I don’t want the galaxy to be brainwashed. As soon as they were done, they’d simply return for me, and I would have few places to run. I was building my own box working on that project, and when I realized there would be no escape once it was in their possession, I destroyed what I could, and left with their trigger.”

“But not to bring to anyone else? Not the resistance or any other parties? But to destroy it?” Nerri folded his hands. Scorpius was intrigued that this was Chiana’s brother. That he was hyper-intelligent was obvious, but also acted disarming even while getting to the root of his interrogations.

John grumbled. “Probably wanted to sell it instead.”

Scorpius ignored John’s statement. Nerri’s considered expression was more interesting. “Yes to destroy it. No one should have it.” He stated blankly.

Nerri snapped his notebook shut. “This is enlightening. While we are underway, visit the med bay. I’m sure you’d like to make sure you weren’t inoculated as a carrier while in the employ of the Establishment. We have some of the antibodies available. Let’s break for now. Crichton, I believe we are approaching your drop off.”

Scorpius had tested himself for the contagion a full cycle ago when he realized the purpose of his research. The test had been positive and he’d dealt with it through normal back channels. He wasn’t sure if a person could be infected twice. There was no reason not to visit the med bay. “Crichton is getting dropped off?”

“My kids, Scorp, my kids aren’t getting dragged into a fight. We have a babysitter.”

“They could be useful. You know what they are capable of.”

“I’m not going to use my kids to give us an edge, Scorpius. They shouldn’t even be involved in this at all. And another thing, I don’t know where you get this idea that you have any say in how I raise my kids. Besides, it’ll be quick, like there and back. Done and done.”

Irony again. He was not there and back. Six arns later, some strange blast from the planet paralyzed Moya and all the comms went dead. One whole solar day later, after three fires had broken out, Pilot fell into a hypnotized rage that nearly ended with everyone evacuated into space. Only to be diverted, when an intensely magnetic comet was dragged to the planet’s surface and submerged completely in the ocean. When John did come back, sans children, he had a flower crown and a softly pulsating crystal which he placed in Nerri’s hand with a single remark. “They send their apologies.”

Scorpius smoldered with annoyance and spent a long time pacing his cell to burn off the anger. He had forgotten how easily distracted John was or at least, how prone he was to convoluted misfortune.

A day later than expected, Moya arrived at Jantuga. A contingent needed to go planetside in the event of an attack, so they took two ships, the Stryker and a transport pod. Scorpius directed the division down to the planet’s surface. The ships, dropping into atmosphere, coasted over an expansive forest, but as they approached the landing coordinates the forest shriveled to new twiggy, growth over black scorched dirt. The abandoned town sat in the epicenter of the affected zone. When the ships had settled to the ground on the outskirts, and the doors slid open, marshy air wafted in.

The town itself was overgrown with creeping, flowering vines hungry for light that didn’t hit the underbrush in the rest of the forest. As the group walked through town to the box’s location, few spoke in a voice higher than a whisper. The soldiers were on edge, gripping their guns, and searching for any recent disturbance among the buildings in town. With the delay, the Nebari Establishment could arrive at any time or perhaps could have come and gone already. The place was eerie, appearing to have been struck by fire decats ago and been abandoned. A burnt shutter creaked in the damp breeze. This place hadn’t changed much since Scorpius had hastily buried the box perhaps a quarter or two ago, but he didn’t expect it to. He picked this site because it was slowly being absorbed into the forest. Its desolation was perfect.

Or at least he thought so until he found the burial site disturbed and the box missing.

Immediately the soldiers readied for an attack. Nerri picked up his comm, “The asset is gone. Search the area for Nebari ships, they couldn’t have gotten far.” Scorpius ground his molars heatedly and scoured the edge of the hole for any evidence to the contrary. If John hadn’t taken that ridiculous excursion to drop off his loathsome children, they would have arrived much earlier. He was having a harder time than usual focusing past his seething anger.

Aeryn squatted down and touched the churned soil. She had a look of intense scrutiny. “The Establishment wouldn’t have used their hands to dig this out.” Her razor vision scanned the impressionable mud. “There. Tracks into the forest.” She struck out in the direction of her discovery. The group followed quickly along after her.

John sidled up to Scorpius, “Nice hiding spot.”

Scorpius snapped his teeth at him. “Your response to our delay is sarcasm?”

John raised his hands in placation. “None of that was my fault.”

Scorpius tched. John shrugged and moseyed ahead to be with Aeryn. The mud had captured the tracks cleanly for about a metra before fragmenting into the ground cover of the great forest. The groups split up, but reconvened when a ramshackle nomadic hut was found, half sunk in the mud. Unsurprisingly, whoever occupied the hut, which was about nine people, adults and children, were dead. The sun through the fragmented roof shone brightly on the patch of table the black box sat. When Scorpius arrived with his group, no one had entered the hut, either out of respect, fear, or awe, he wasn’t sure. He easily walked in, stepping between or over the corpses, and plucked the levering tool from the lid, which had been caught when it snapped shut however long ago. Walked back to the group that had all, in that short amount of time, drawn their weapons on him.

“Scorpius, if you would be so kind as to hand the box to me. I’d prefer if you didn’t carry it.” Nerri offered his open hands.

Scorpius held it for a bit too long in response. Then like it was nothing to him, passed the box off to Nerri, who was unable to carry it with the same nonchalance and held it like an unpinned grenade. He quickly comm’d Moya. “We are in possession of the asset. Heading back now.” The party holstered their weapons, and began the trudge back to the ships, leaving the hut to sink back out of view.

“How many people has that box killed at this point, Scorpy? Hundreds? Thousands?”

“Likely much less than your black hole.” He side-eyed at John, and breathed in sharply. “It’s primarily a brilliant energy source. I can’t control that sentient lifeforms are often too curious for their own good.”

“A ‘caution radiation’ sticker wouldn’t hurt.”

“And ruin it’s aesthetic?”

John squinted. But the conversation was finished. He slunk back to rejoin Aeryn and Chiana.

As they approached the landing site, a resistance scout hobbled into view with blaster wounds. Chiana rushed forward and caught him right before he slipped into the mud. He hurried information in her ear, as Nerri crouched down to his level. The scout was non-responsive as Chiana explained what she heard to a stone-faced Nerri. Immediately, Nerri nodded. “The Establishment have the transport pod and Strykers surrounded. They attacked and killed the guards about 180 microts ago. Moya is still in contact and reports that this vessel acted alone, likely as a scout trying to cut off our escape with the box. We should expect more incoming at any moment. Aeryn please take the box and put it in your bag.”

Aeryn strode forward and collected the box in her bag. “What’s the plan?”

“We’ll need to make this quick.”

The Stryker sitting on the other side of town blew out an electrical surge, frying the Nebari’s comms as well as the transport pod’s and Stryker’s engine locks. John had set up the charge to be controlled remotely. During the momentary confusion, the resistance rushed in blasters blazing and took out the first few soldiers standing guard near the transport pod’s entrance. They were cut off as the soldier’s near the Stryker move forward and pressed them defensively back into the burnt buildings of the town. While they returned fire from the shelters, Chiana poked her head out from behind the firefight, shimmied up the gangway of the Stryker, and disappeared. Moments later the Stryker’s turrets swiveled to life, and the rest of the fight was decided, the Establishment contingent was pulp.

The rest of the group split up quickly and boarded their transports. Scorpius cast an eye back on the dead before striding up into the ship. He frowned. The fight was too easy.

He was not the only one that thought so either. Nerri was impatient and concerned up until visibly seeing Moya alone in orbit out of the transport’s viewport in which he sighed, but then shifted into a greater state of anxiety. The transport pod landed in the bay with everyone on edge, including the few that were onboard the Stryker when the groups reconvened in the hangar. Nerri was greeted by his number two, Trova.

“Sir, welcome back. As requested our heading is Novaxion, the nearest black hole. We have not detected any other vessel, so I have asked for immediate starburst.”

“Good.” Nerri slung off his pack and produced a different box. This one was glossier than the original but fit the specifications of six by six by six at a similar weight. Within the last day or two, after Scorpius’s interrogation, he had secretly made a copy. “Could you please take this to the hold? Keep two guards on it at every moment.” He placed the new box in Trova’s hands. Moya shuddered with starburst.

“Sir, apologies, but.” Trova raised a gun. “You’re too late. The trigger is going back to the Establishment. Your faction will either be mind cleansed or executed depending on criminal level.”

Trova immediately had a blaster bolt slam between her eyes from a soldier in the back. When she fell the box hit the ground hard and the corner bent in. Apparently, Nerri had prepared for this possibility and asked one of his soldiers to be ready. The decoy box was to tease a response out of a mind-cleansed opponent. With Trova dealt with, Aeryn whipped around and attempted to escape to the Stryker, but her escape was blocked by other Nebari. The soldiers, briefed before the mind cleanse, noticed the damaged, doppelganger box within moments of entering and came to the likely conclusion. “Alright, where’s the real one? Check all their equipment.”

Then someone on either side shot a round, and everyone dove for cover. It became clear that in the brief ahn or so the landing part had been planet-side, the Establishment had come and loaded Moya with Nebari soldiers. The resistance was quickly outmatched in sheer body count as the hangar crowded with blasts and people. Nerri’s group refocused on breaking through the door locks and the rear brigade to retreat back into the landing bay. The attacking soldiers were methodically targeting anyone with a pack. Firing rounds from the open doors on the opposite side of the hall. What remained of the resistance, had cleared away the rear-guards, and were pressed against the locked door. John was in the process of gutting a control panel, cursing as sparks flew from wire coils and biomass. When the door finally spun open, the survivors practically spilled out into the bay sorting themselves hectically into groups for the transport pods.

Scorpius picked the Stryker. He wasn’t going to retreat away from his device, Aeryn was coming back to this ship and the device with her. But in the moments it took to stride up the gangway, with John and Aeryn behind him, a struggle broke out. From the viewport, Scorpius observed a tug of war between the Nebari and Aeryn and John. The Nebari were winning in accumulation alone. Scorpius hissed, hastily read the turret panel, slid into the pilot seat, and clicked the system to life. Dispatching the Nebari was intuitive, but the bag went flying, slipping low across the landing bay’s floor.

Suddenly, a bright green beam pierced Moya’s hull from outside and carved a line between Aeryn, John and the bag. The landing bay began decompressing and the doors went into lockdown. The two heaved into the Stryker short of breath and coughing. John hacking, stumbled to the pilot seat, “Get up.”

“Where is it? Please tell me you have it.”

“Get up.” He repeated again thickly. Scorpius abandoned his seat, and John swung down in his place, guided the ship out of the bay to a sky full of the burning wreckage of transport ships and a Nebari Establishment cruiser. Moya starbursted away.


	3. The Contagion

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In this chapter, I passed 100 pages for this entire series, and as someone that has only begun writing again less than a year ago, that's a big achievement for me. Thanks for reading!

The Establishment cruiser wasn’t very large, but the Establishment had a different concept of might and it wasn’t related to size. Even small, unarmed vessels had equipment that could easily be converted to weaponry when needed, but this ship was a warcraft. Heavily shielded, fast, and well-armed, it would be a challenge to escape or destroy. As the Stryker readied for battle, it fired a shattering green beam at the preparing ship’s targeting system. The precision was surgical, but John had already raised the ship’s shields and the blast was deflected.

Aeryn was wounded but standing now, anger flared in her eyes. She turned on Scorpius, “You’re in my seat.” There was no merit in delaying her, she was the co-pilot and knew the craft better than he did. He quickly vacated, hovered in the back. She slid down, flipped several switches, took over the turrets, which did nothing against the other ship. The cruiser, through the viewport, was firing another volley, this time from a scatter cannon. It had less precision but was more qualified for breaking through energy shields. The Stryker shuddered uncomfortably, but the shield held. Scorpius calculated that the odds of a firefight between a Stryker and an unknown Nebari military craft would be challenging at best, as the Nebari were incredibly secretive about their military might. The other glaring challenge was that the Nebari were brilliant tacticians and John Crichton in a hacked vessel was not. He gripped the back of the co-pilot’s chair as the ship dipped aggressively. Still, it was hard for Scorpius to accurately judge John’s abilities, always had been. Mostly because John would come up with something that was unbelievably ludicrous whenever he was cornered.

“We don’t have time for this. We need to go after Moya!” John yanked the yoke, avoiding another direct blast as the shots speckled the ship’s underbelly. Scorpius jerked at his unstable position, the fold-down seats had seat belts but offered no view and despite the health risk Scorpius didn’t want to miss anything. John’s pronouncement, however, proved to Scorpius what he already believed, the box was still on Moya and was getting farther and farther away by the microt. He grit his teeth.

Aeryn growled. “We need to take down their shields! These guns are barely scratching them.”

John huffed. “I don’t really want to do the thing. We won’t have enough power to catch Moya.”

j“We could run?” Aeryn fired off another volley. “Get on their frelling starboard for frells sake!” Another strike suddenly hit them and a light on the front console began flashing red menacingly.

“Okay! Okay!” John wrenched the yoke, the ship practically buckled in half before shooting upward. “But the transport pods! We’re distracting this ship now, but once we’re gone? They’re toast.”

“Retrieving the box is more important than the resistance.” Scorpius reminded John from his white-knuckled grip on the back of Aeryn’s seat.

John scoffed. “Only pilots get a say in this.” He threw the wheel again as if to make a point. The ship jerked unexpectedly and began rattling. The yoke stuck under John’s hands and couldn’t be budged. “Uhhh, Aeryn?”

Aeryn scowled miserably as she first examined a small screen on the console, and then rising from her seat, checked visually outside. “They have a gravity tether. They are reeling us in!”

“Oh fuck right off.” John checked as well. “Fine. We’ll figure out the whole catch-Moya thing after we’ve dealt with this.” He immediately threw himself back in his seat, drew out a mouse and keyboard, flipping a hidden screen open. Scorpius squinted at the appearance of these rudimentary Earth tools. Earth tech couldn’t possibly do anything against a Nebari warship. John tapped something quickly on his keyboard, wiggled the mouse, tapped out a long sequence. “You ready to fire?”

Aeryn sat back down with a nod.

“Hey grasshopper, you may have a black hole in a box, but I bet you haven’t figured this out yet.” And he slammed on the enter key. The Stryker’s lights instantly dimmed, the gravity lurched alarmingly, and the sound of the thrusters died. Anything that wasn’t latched down or stored began to float, which unfortunately included Scorpius. He gripped the side of the seat with his thighs without a second thought as attention was riveted to the front viewport. When John told him to pay attention, it was always wise to do so.

Aeryn fired a single shot near the Nebari ship, and for a breath there was nothing. Then a small tear appeared in the fabric of space, outlined in blue. It expanded out slowly, like an iris and within moments overlapped the cruiser, slicing into its hull, but it grew no bigger than an ordinary wormhole, unlike the awe-inspiring growth of the black hole. The lopped off part of the ship lingered as the other half began to tip into the wormhole and disappear. Scorpius hissed in surprise. The shock of John’s reinvention of a wormhole weapon, even on this small scale, was beyond what he expected. Perhaps on another ship, the power wouldn’t drain so drastically. The weapon could be stable and used multiple times. However, the Stryker was currently powerless, and the Nebari ship fired one more laser beam, puncturing the vessel’s hull, before sinking. The wormhole dissipated before the gravity tether could drag them in after it.

Aeryn was up and floating with a patch kit in microts as the cabin depressurized. Everyone was wheezing painfully before she had a stable weld completed. “It’ll do for now.” She gasped, wiped the sweat off her forehead, droplets flew across the cabin.

Scorpius’ attention was focused elsewhere. Still feeling lightheaded from the vacuum, he scoured the cockpit with his eyes for the device that created the wormhole. The keyboard and mouse were linked to a decidedly different black box than his own. This one was larger and heavier but was equally matte. Somehow he had failed to notice it’s addition to an otherwise ordinary Scarran set up on more than one occasion. Now that he was aware of it, numerous cables from the console and elsewhere there threaded into its ports.

“Gravity returning in three, two, one.” John had wisely buckled himself in. Aeryn landed feet first with a clang. The cabin was dimly lit with emergency lighting. Obviously, the ship hadn’t recovered its full abilities yet. The comms crackled. “Crichton? It’s Chiana! Nerri is hurt but wow that wormhole was crazy!”

“Hey, pip! Glad you made it outa that. How’re you holding up?”

“Not good. Uh, Nerri was able to signal the fleet before we left Moya, but I’m not sure when they’ll show up. The remote doesn’t tell us if they got it and are coming. Oh, Nerri wants to ask if Aeryn is with you?”

John looked back at Aeryn, who was visibly battered. They mutually sighed. “I got some bad news. They have the box. We need to pursue them but we’re running low on juice from our last performance.”

Chiana swore. “Crichton, I mean, we’ll hopefully be picked up soon, but you gotta go. We’re gonna give you some power, okay?” The transport pod linked up with the Stryker, and after feeding cables from one ship to another, full power was restored.

“Are you sure you’re going to be alright waiting for pickup?” John asked through the connecting shaft.

“Yeah, we’ll be okay.” Chiana dragged back the last of the cables. “Nerri doesn’t think it’ll be too long now.”

“Okay, don’t be a stranger.” John latched the connecting tube closed, and threw himself back into the pilot seat. “Now we just have to cut off Moya before she reaches Nebari Prime and we’re good.”

Scorpius had stayed quiet and out of the way for most of their time powering up. There was little he could do to contribute and anything he had to say about the recent events would not be received well. That they didn’t run from the cruiser and pursue Moya, instead opting to save a pitiful single pod, was a gross lack of priority. He had been consuming his anger for the better part of half an arn in the co-pilot seat, but when he was able to surface from his annoyance periodically, he would reexamine John’s box. He had come to the conclusion that it was an Earth computer, even though the computers that Harvey had shown him from Earth were gray and block-like, perhaps in the last ten cycles, Earth had improved on their technology. He tried not to invest too much time looking at the computer lest John pick up on his interest. John thankfully was busy.

The ship was incredibly fast, and while it moved at it’s comfortable traveling speed, it made no sound, not even a slight rattle. Scorpius had never experienced flight from within this model, only seen them from informative holograms or exploding into pieces. It was strange to think that Moya starbursting, which was a sort of teleportation, was still slower than this craft simply gliding along like all of outer space was a lake and it, a skipping stone. From his new seat, he was able to read all the scribbled notes on the console. Every symbol had an adjoining label, which made sense, the Scarran language in the cockpit was the written form, not the spoken. Written Scarran was referential. Spoken Scarran was straightforward. Even with translator microbes, the written Scarran was unreadable unless the reader knew how to read it. Scorpius was impressed John had even this amount of limited knowledge. It was no easy task, but he surmised that John took it on simply for the pleasure of doing something no one else had.

When they got underway, Aeryn didn’t roust him from her chair. Instead, she sat down on the center console, swung her legs over John’s lap. He smiled at her in a way that made Scorpius uncomfortably tingly, a whole series of memories that weren’t exactly his, surfaced. They were Harvey’s overlaps when his neural clone would slip into people of John’s memories, and some of them were uncomfortably intimate. He sneered at them all.

John and Aeryn talked quietly. During the flight, Aeryn had gotten up to retrieve a first aid kit and when she returned to her perch on the console began slowly cleaning her wounds. “There is a big one on my back you’ll need to look at for me. It might need solder or stitches.” She said to John as she set a gel patch on an open arm wound. “Also you have a few too.” She reached for the hem of his shirt, which resisted being moved because of an oozing gash.

He winced. “I think there’ll be some time. We lost about an arn, but we’ll make it up. Moya can’t go through the asteroid chain in Lito even if they are chain bursting, but we can. Scorpy are you bleeding out secretly over there? You’ve been broody. It’s got me worried.”

“I’m fine, Crichton.” He said as unaffected as he could manage.

“Wormhole got you that vexed huh?”

He chose not to respond to that question.

It was an alarmingly short amount of time before the Stryker reached the furthest outskirts of Nebari Prime that John would dare orbit. He performed a search for Moya, and when the search came back negative, he relaxed back in his seat. “See? With time to spare! The fastest ship in the west.” Then he made a pair of guns shooting motions with his hands, blew on his fingertips like a smoke trail. “Now let’s take a look at your back.”

Aeryn smiled crookedly at him, Scorpius couldn’t tell if she was disgusted or amused or both, before swooping down gracefully into his lap. He lifted her shirt, with an extravagant decadence, all slow-drag fingertips, to a large cut near her lower rib. He touched it lightly. “Mm, might be worth stitching. I could solder it closed, but the scar would be bigger. Take a day or two tops with a gel patch. That fine with you?” Aeryn nodded. Once approved, John set to work sewing her wound closed. He was softly focused and gentle like this was a practice he’d performed many times before. Scorpius was sure being married to Aeryn meant this was a commonplace task, or John was taught by Aeryn, herself, how to stitch skin efficiently. At the opposite end of the wound from where he started, he knotted the thread, leaned in, and nipped the extra off. Afterward, he ran a thumb over his handiwork and dressed it with a patch.

Aeryn looked back and laid a hand on his neck. At first, it seemed like a kind gesture of thank you between lovers, but her grip tightened, perhaps a firm gesture between lovers. Then confusion and concern flashed on John’s face, “Uh Aeryn?” He gurgled, turning slightly red. He caught her wrists and began ripping her fingers from his throat. “Hot, but not a great time.”

“John Crichton, you are under execution order of the Nebari Establishment.”

“Oh shit! What the fuck!” Aeryn was well trained, but John was of a different weight class and threw her off him into the footwell of the cockpit. He goggled at her as she lazily stood, her face placid, a small beatific smile curled on her lips. “Aeryn?” There was a new fear quaking under his tone.

“This is for the civic good John.” She launched at him. He tumbled backward, the space too small to properly grapple. “All resistance sympathizers will be extinguished for the future of the galaxy.” She said blankly as she clawed for purchase back on his throat.

Scorpius clubbed her in the back of the head with his fists, and she fell limply over John, who was still wide-eyed with surprise.

“The fuck?” He said quietly as he lifted her unconscious form off his.

“The contagion has been activated.” Scorpius hissed.

“Aeryn isn’t infected!” John hissed back. “Besides, Moya hasn’t shown up. And it’s not like they’ve come and gone. Moya knows how to wine and dine properly.”

Scorpius had the itch to pace in the tiny cockpit. He templed his fingers instead. “My information is old. Perhaps they moved the socket. If we had pursued them directly, we’d know.”

John wasn’t paying attention enough to be annoyed by the last statement. He was worriedly stroking Aeryn’s cheek. “She’s not infected though. The resistance tests regularly.”

“She was wounded in the last confrontation. A virus would be easy to weaponize. Darts that dissolve?” Aeryn stirred. “She’s waking up.”

John grit his teeth dug quickly in the storage space and retrieved a pair of handcuffs. “Don’t ask.”

Scorpius hadn’t found it odd that John had handcuffs until then, and he was immediately disgruntled to learn why John had handcuffs. Still, they worked well enough. Her legs were restrained with a length of rope before she awoke calmly like the lights simply switched back on. The small smile returned.

“John, release me.” She said lazily.

“How about no. You’re infected?” John had a pointed quality about him.

“Yes. And for the rest of the galaxy, it’s only a matter of time. Under the Nebari all problems will disappear. We’ll finally live in perfect harmony. Don’t you want that?”

He snorted, “You just tried to kill me!”

“Yes, but wouldn’t you want to die for everyone to live free of disorder?”

John shared a look with Scorpius. “Welp, I’m ending this immediately.” He dug around in the first aid kit Aeryn had initially brought out, and returned with an autoinjector, slammed it forcefully into her thigh.

She barely moved. “That won’t work, John.”

“What do you mean, it won’t work! That was the antibody!”

“The antibody developed by the resistance only works on the contagion when it is not stimulated by the trigger.”

“That’s very forthcoming of you,” Scorpius remarked.

Aeryn shrugged. “There is no reason to be dishonest when the truth is hopeless. Nearly the whole galaxy is against you. As more fall to the contagion, the odds against your success rises. However, Scorpius, you may join us. We welcome you.”

Scorpius raised an eyebrow. His escapade with the box had either been forgotten as soon as it was returned or he was still in favor with a higher-up of the Nebari Establishment. The second case was likely. Or it was a trap. A trap to what end, however? To get him to side with the infected? To get him to kill John right now and release Aeryn? Why? They had the upper hand. Aeryn was correct, finding the box and disabling it would become more and more hopeless as time went on. There was no obvious reason the Establishment should be attempting to coerce him away from the resistance.

“Scorpius, a word.” John dragged him into the bathroom out of earshot from Aeryn, shut the door. “What the fuck man! We gotta snap her out of this!”

“Your assessment of our situation is exceptional as ever.” He tapped his chin. “The trigger works in two ways. First, it activates the contagion in the body of the host and apparently prevents its elimination. Second, it directs the brain to follow it’s ascribed protocol.”

“And it’s all through radiation, right? What stops radiation?” His eyes became brighter.

Scorpius understood immediately. “An elemental barrier.”

“Tinfoil!” John said gleefully.

Scorpius frowned. He got little satisfaction from comprehending John’s references now that Harvey was gone. His glee was ridiculous, but the idea was sound. Aluminum would stop the radiation if applied close to the skull in a more personal way than the radiation proofing on the Stryker.

“I have a roll somewhere.” He opened the bathroom door and scrambled through another storage compartment. Within a few moments, he’d found the foil, and wrapped Aeryn’s head in a peaked cone of it. He was chuckling the entire time, and Scorpius hated every microt. Aeryn stopped reciting Establishment rhetoric, but her personality didn’t return. Her eyes glazed instead. She sat quietly bound without saying another word. John groused, leaned back on his heels. “This isn’t much better.”

“She’s not trying to kill you,” Scorpius stated matter-of-fact.

“I don’t have enough of this stuff to cover her entire body. That’d be better. Give her the antibodies while she’s wrapped in a foil cocoon.” He was obviously amused by the idea at first, but then slumped when he remembered his wife’s life was at risk. The hat was only a stopgap to prevent his own assassination and hadn’t helped Aeryn much, if at all. He shuffled her into a more comfortable position on the floor, then stood with a fresh purpose and slid back into his pilot seat, turned the ship around. “I’m going back to Nerri. The resistance is our only chance to stop this. They’ll have intel, antibodies, hell, maybe even a radiation-proof room, who knows.”

Scorpius agreed that returning to the resistance was better than floating on the edge of Nebari Prime, but the possibility that the resistance was better prepared for the contagion simply because they knew about it and had antibody carriers was unlikely. Traveling anywhere closer to a larger ship, planet, or any kind of crowd was a poor plan with any viral outbreak, but convincing John otherwise would prove impossible, he was sure of it. “I’d like to be armed.”

The cabin got tenser for a moment as John judged his intentions as if Scorpius ever showed visual cues that he was being dishonest. John sighed and dropped his scrutiny. “Yeah sure, there’s a blaster in the compartment under your seat.”

Scorpius shuffled around in the co-pilot seat. In the seat bin, he found the blaster John had mentioned, but also a small disposable box. He reached for the box first unable to believe his eyes. It was a box of cigarettes complete with a bic lighter shoved in the wrapping. He had pulled one out and lit it without so much as a consideration.

“Hey! No smoking in here!” John, almost unconsciously, reached across the cockpit and grabbed hold of the cigarette before a crazed recognition flashed over him. Without removing the cigarette from Scorpius’s mouth, John let go and withdrew his hand. He stared at Scorpius with a confused expression.

Scorpius returned it for as long as he could manage. “What?”

He whispered at first. “Harvey?”

“What?” Scorpius said a little louder.

John fiddled his hands on the ship’s yoke, looked lost in memory for a moment. When he began talking at first, he sounded far off. “You know, towards the end of Harvey’s time in my head, he was always smoking. I couldn’t get him to stop. Every time, I kept telling him not to smoke cause my brain was already trashed. The last thing it needed to be was an ashtray. And here you are— smoking?” He peered at him closely, searching for some unknown thing deep in Scorpius’s eyes. Scorpius shifted uncomfortably. “You’re Harvey!”

“I am not!” Scorpius snapped, then immediately recoiled at his own childishness.

“Oh yeah? Explain to me why you’re smoking right now? Have you ever even seen a cigarette before?” Scorpius wasn’t sure what expression he was wearing. He hoped for superiority, disgust, and spite, but his first, real cigarette was likely stripping those intentions down. “How the hell did that happen? How are you anything like Harvey? I thought Harvey didn’t communicate with you from my brain? Was that another lie?”

Scorpius decided not to answer. He was pleased that the shock of John recognizing their, at one time, shared passenger was distraction enough that John was letting him smoke in his ship.

“No, couldn’t have been a lie. Hey, put that thing out! The whole place is going to reek!” He had thought too soon. Despite the problems ahead of them, Scorpius was unable to give a dren at the moment. He also loathed to put out the cigarette, let John take it from him then. He’d be quickly sorry. Thankfully, all John did was glare. “Fine, asshole. At least find something to ash in.” Scorpius barely smiled, if this was all he won today, it would be enough.

The ride back to where they left Nerri and Chiana was more relaxed than their departure, at least for Scorpius. He hadn’t lost his wife’s mind to a virus. He wasn’t wanted dead by the leading power in the galaxy. In his newfound calm, he considered their options. They either must find the location of the socket and disable it, or they must develop a new antibody that will work on the triggered contagion. This was step one. Step two was murkier. If the socket was disabled, would the contagion still be active? He wasn’t sure. Antibodies would need to be produced and distributed. Perhaps the best solution would be to develop an antibody that worked on the active contagion and let the box and socket be forgotten.

The sensor pinged before they reached their destination, a larger ship was in their range. John must have recognized the ship, because he pulled out the comm from the console, and hailed them. They didn’t reply immediately. At this point, Scorpius reached under the seat and collected the blaster he meant to collect an arn ago. When the comm did crackle to life, panic was in the responder’s voice. “John Crichton? We’re a little busy right now. I’ll open the bay doors, but be prepared for a fight. The ship is overrun with the infected. We’re trying to corner them. I’ll share your arrival with Nerri and Chiana, but I don’t know if they’ll be able to meet you.” The connection cut out.

John stared at the console, disgruntled. “Oh boy, this is promising news. I can’t wait to get out there. Face a brainwashed hoard. Who’s ready for a big fight? This guy.” He then grumbled, checked the oil in his blaster, and steered the Stryker into the bay.

When the Stryker’s doors opened, and John stepped out pistol first, Chiana was in the bay, a line of blue blood cut across her cheek. “Crichton, you fekkik, couldn’t catch Moya huh? What were you doing? Taking a nap!?”

“She never showed up! This ‘fekkik’ had the wrong intel!”

He gestured to Scorpius, who was striding down the gangway. “Don’t cast the blame on me. I would’ve left Chiana to die at the hands of the Establishment to pursue Moya.”

Chiana sneered. “You drelk! Wipe that smirk off your face before I do it for you!”

John caught her single-handedly on the collarbone. “Now’s not the time, pip. Where’s Nerri?”

“Where do you think? Frontlines. He’s been maintaining the quarantine.” Her eyes skimmed the entrance to the Stryker. “Hey, where’s Aeryn?”

John sighed. “It’ll be easier to explain once, with you and Nerri together.”

Chiana dug into his weary expression with her own but eventually relented. She led the way into the halls of the ship, which were shredded with evidence of battle. “They’ve been using darts coated with their own blood to infect others. It’s gross.” She said conversationally as they maneuvered through the ship. “We think there were only a few inoculated when the trigger was activated, but in the last few arns, we’ve quarantined maybe a hundred. We’ve also found out if you were inoculated and treated before, you can’t get infected again, which means the infected will just kill you when they get ahold of you.”

“Charming. It’s worse than a zombie movie. Morally pure monks eager to kill you if you can’t join them. Aeryn just straight-up tried to murder me. I thought all the resistance got the same treatment. Maybe it has something to do with averages.”

“Oh no! Is that what happened to Aeryn? She’s infected!”

Nerri came into view. His clothing was torn, bloody, and he had a metal support on his leg, but he angrily hobbled up to John regardless. “I see you weren’t able to get the box from Moya.”

He was barely keeping the annoyance out of his voice.

Chiana stepped in. “Moya wasn’t going to Nebari Prime. Scorpius was wrong.”

“Is this one of your tactics, Scorpius?” He redirected his anger instantly.

“Look, Aeryn was darted with the contagion.” John interrupted. “I want to know what your plan is to unfuck this.”

Nerri sniffed, but the scowl remained carved into his gray face. “Yes, you and everyone else that have had their loved ones converted to the Establishment in little more than a few arns. This is a galaxy-wide problem. You’ll be pleased to know we are heading towards an antibody laboratory that is under threat of being destroyed. We need to prevent its destruction at all costs.”

John shook his head. “The antibodies don’t stop the contagion while the trigger is activated.”

“Yes, I know this,” Nerri said quietly, the anger was dissolving from his voice. The weight of the situation was squeezing it from him. “If we go investigate where the box is using what little intel we have, the lab will be destroyed. If we secure the lab, we can then investigate the location of the box, or develop an alternative antibody. Regardless, the lab cannot be destroyed.” He pinched the bridge of his nose. “Also John, I have heard from your children.”

John perked up, more worried than before. “They aren’t safe?”

“The whole galaxy isn’t safe. This is outside of their abilities. The Drolnats are a promiscuous species. The planet is likely infested.”

“I’ve got to go get them.” He immediately began walking down the hall.

“We could really use your help, Crichton.” It was a plea.

He wandered back marginally, hands out in apology. “I’ll come back, but sorry, they take priority. Uh,” John appeared to consider something. “Can I leave Aeryn with you?”

“She’s alive and infected and on your little ship? How?” Nerri tilted his head, intrigued.

“Tinfoil!” He said with a laugh.

Aeryn was removed from the Stryker carefully. Nerri was very interested in the aluminum foil and thought there might be a similar material they could strip from their own ship. When John returned to the Stryker’s cockpit, he was shocked to see Scorpius lounging in the co-pilot seat, smoking. “You aren’t coming with me. Get out.”

“Last time you paid a visit to that planet, you were delayed a full solar day. I’m going to keep you on task. Besides, do you really trust me enough to leave me here, on the last hope of the galaxy?”

John’s nose crinkled. “If you don’t stop smoking in my damn ship, I’m going to openly call you Harvey, since you obviously love that.” Scorpius did not stop smoking. “Harvey.” Scorpius bristled but didn’t move otherwise. “Just like old times. Can’t get rid of you.” John fired up the engines, and they were off.

The trip back to the planet, named Drolnatlund, which Scorpius hadn’t caught the first time he visited, was a longer trip. Scorpius dozed. There was an autopilot feature, but whenever Scorpius opened his eyes, John was alert, either reading or writing. Once he woke, and John asked him suddenly, “So what got you back in the good graces of the Establishment? You haven’t betrayed us already have you? I always thought you liked the long con.”

Scorpius considered his answers. “I have no idea what I’ve done to garner Establishment support. I cannot be infected again since I was priorly inoculated and treated. They should want me dead like any other vaccinated individuals.”

“But they don’t,” John said icily.

“Yes, it’s interesting.”

John sucked his teeth. “That’s a word for it.” He said nothing else, and the conversation dissolved into the hush of the ship’s traveling stream. Scorpius settled back to sleep.

When he awoke again, the ship was entering the atmosphere. Through the front viewport, Scorpius saw a sprawl of red plastered buildings breaking above the higher canopy, blue brick streets cut straight from one settlement to another. Smoke billowed from the ground, and from the inside of one or two buildings, licked tongues of fire. As John flew towards one of these buildings, he cursed and cruised away. He settled on landing in the jungle instead. “Looks like we’re walking.”

“How will we find your children?”

“It won’t be that hard. They all wear trackers. Pretty standard for galactic parents these days.” John flipped open a silver disk. It had dual screens, one screen with an angled arrow, the other a scanner with four dots. The dots were clumped together. A gust of pressure bellowed from the ship as Scorpius and John made it about thirty steps into the jungle. The turrets swiveled threateningly. “Don’t mind that, it’s the shield going up. I put the ship in lockdown. If I die, look for another way off the planet, because it won’t be on the Stryker.”

The jungle was filled with the sounds of turmoil, gunshots and panicked shouts were happening all around them as they made their way quickly along the path. As the ship disappeared from view, turrets could be heard firing at some unknown aggressor. From their hidden movement, a group of about twenty aliens bound across the path. They moved on all fours but wore clothing and carried blasters. Three stood on two legs mid-crossing, and with hands fired into the forest, called out, and folded down to run away.

Scorpius had never seen a drolnat in person. They were renowned for their speed and intelligence, but they weren’t interested in space travel. They lauded their own planet as a god and were averse to leaving it. Both genders grew antlers on their heads, but females had poison spurs on their ankles. They were known for being particularly good at the arts, and the best-known drolnat was an architect that had died a hundred cycles or more ago. It was a female dominant society, ranked in power by how big their families were. Adoption was common to increase family renown. The men weren’t considered part of the family and were selected from a communal pool when needed. The contagion would be highly successful here.

Avoiding the locals, John made it to a cobalt road. It was desolate, as it should be in a state of war. The street was very flat, wide, and raised, offering no cover even from the forest or the buildings. John hopped up wearily and a shot immediately pinged off the road near him. He flung himself down. “Okay, we’ll take the long way.” He doubled back into the forest, every so often, squinting up at the forest canopy. At length, he stumbled upon a small clearing with an arched doorway. The moment he entered, a weapon touched the side of his head.. Scorpius was quick to draw his own weapon on the drolnat.

“If you were infected, you’d already have shot me.” John raised his hands in surrender.

“This is true. I cannot say the same for you.”

“If we were infected, I would have shot you,” Scorpius said from the doorway.

The drolnat starred at Scorpius. “This is true.” They lowered their weapon. “You are the same species as the ones in MaeMaeTrulan’s keeping.” They said this to John. “I will take you to them if you can get me inside their blockade. They are well fortified.”

“You sure you don’t want to get off this planet instead?”

“We have angered our god, we cannot abandon it now. You mentioned an infection. Is a virus causing this? The switch was sudden and happened everywhere. Family and friends became something else. We suffer. The suffering is worse every step into the future. We kill without knowing who is friend or foe.” The drolnat dropped to all fours, plodded through the building. She was a young female, her horns still small, but her spurs clicked on the stone. “Come, this way. They are not far.”

The drolnat stopped at the elaborate entry door, twisted her neck around the framing and scanned the street. “We will have to run the road. They are just there.” She pointed to an alley across the way. “I will cover you since you are slow.” And then loped out into the street without awaiting a response. John and Scorpius sprinted out into the sun, firing at anyone that stood out on the roofs above. The drolnat wove between the two and skidded behind a roadblock on the alley’s corner. She stuck her head over only for a moment, and in an instant, a distant shot pierced her neck. When they joined her, she lay crumpled in the red dirt, gasping for breath. Her panicked eyes quivered red and frightened until Scorpius shot her in the head. Her pained expression melted away.

They stood over her for a bit longer, until John wiped his eye on his shoulder, and flipped open his tracker. The arrows and sensors showed that his kids were nearby. He walked further into the alley, now that they were unable to be shot from the rooftops. At the back of the alley was a gate, a guard, and an artillery gun. “I know you, but none are allowed in.”

“Fair, fair. I won’t go in but let my kids out.”

“I would not release a member of my family to an unknown.”

“I don’t know how to prove to you that I’m not under the influence, like what do you want? Do I need to pee in a cup?”

“You do not speak like one affected, but I have my orders. Hold the gate. Let none in.”

“Why even have a gate then?” John said testily. “Let me speak with my kids. You know what they can do right? They’ll know I’m not infected.”

The drolnat guard pursed their lips. “I will ask the Matriarch.”

The matriarch, or MaeMaeTrulan, had a heavy rack of antlers, but a perfectly ageless face. She plodded up to the gate with unexpected stealth and stood to place one hand on the gate’s bars. “Greetings John Crichton. If it is you, and not some corrupted spirit inhabiting his body.”

“Mama T!” John went to approach the gate, but the guard pointed the artillery gun at him and flashed their fangs. He backed off. “Of course it’s me when I’m stabilized I sound like I’m from Bill and Ted’s Excellent Adventure. This is a little heavy-handed as a welcome. Look, I got a message from my kids. They don’t sound too happy being here right now, and that’s not a judgment on you. It’s just, your planet is in a bad way, and I don’t think that’s a great environment for—.”

“Your children are my family now. I will not give them to you. They have been very valuable in the last arns or so. They are safe here, I swear, and they will remain safe until the order has returned.”

John blanched quickly. “What?” Then rage appeared. “No! Fuck that! Give me my kids back! This isn’t a request.”

The guard aimed the artillery gun at John as the Matriarch signaled. “Then you will be counted among the dead. There are many that have already fallen. If it is true that this is happening across the galaxy then your fall is believable, perhaps inevitable.”

“This isn’t wise, Matriarch.” Scorpius interrupted. “We could easily return with a weaponized ship John’s children would surely recognize and threaten to blast your family to smithereens, lest you acquiesce.”

The Matriarch smoothed a lock of her hair. “Your death can be now easily.”

“If you kill us, there will be no end to the suffering of your planet.”

Her equine ears perked up. She squinted through the bars at Scorpius attempting to get a better glimpse. At length, she spoke again. “I know you.” It was a heavy statement, not so much a recognition than a greater agreement that in front of her stood the epitome of treachery. “Why would you have this knowledge?”

“It is my business to know.”

Her expression was more serious than before even while threatening to kidnap four children and murdering their father. “That is a demon’s business, but this is a world of demons now, overrun, a horror. If I release John Crichton’s kin, will you leave this place and end this future?”

“It is our goal and pleasure.” Scorpius gutturally purred. He hadn’t expected his angle to work this well but was pleased to learn that his notoriety spread far. It was rare the combination of courtesy, threat, and infamy delivered success. His ego bolstered.

John’s face was still red with rage but he gaped momentarily before gritting his teeth firmly against the Matriarch. The Matriarch was undergoing her own emotional transformation, first was resignation to failure, but then oddly it became sheer fright.

“Quick, get inside!” She keyed open the gate hastily, swung it outward. At the mouth of the alley, where the dead girl lay, a group of drolnats walked placidly forward with small smiles. The guard fired on them, and they bound between the narrow walls. The first few fell, but more were coming in from the street.

Scorpius and John skirted inside the gate and closed it with a rattling clang. The Matriarch whistled shrilly, “To the gate if you are able! Take arms.” She said lower directly to John and Scorpius. “This is the first of them to mount an attack. Here, follow me.” She dropped to the ground and trotted into a building off the alley. The drone of the artillery gun receded into the distance as a rush of armed and nervous drolnats rushed past them heading towards the gate. The building the Matriarch entered was red plaster with blue and white tile. Past the large arched door, was an interior atrium filled with flowers that were lit by multifaceted glass lamps hanging high under the eaves. Several rooms down, she opened a carved wood door and ushered the two inside. It was a long room filled with row beds and scared faces, a drolnat’s nursery. Among the drolnat children were John’s own. Their delight was immediate.

“Dad!” The four of them rushed across the long room and flung onto any part they could grab.

“Thank god you’re all okay.” John knelt and let them crowd around. Scorpius hovered back, but observed that each of John’s children were pale, weary, and bruised, anemic almost. They had all recently suffered from blood loss.

The Matriarch whistled from the door to get his attention back, “I must go. Please stop whatever this is. It will be the end of our ways. I beg you.” She paused as she exited. “Apologies for before. It was wrong of me.” Then she was gone.

John immediately turned back to his children a glimmer of the previous anger still cutting his brow. Grabbed the nearest face, Zhaan’s, and inspected her nervously. “You’ve been doing a lot of work keeping this place safe.”

Zhaan tried to look away, embarrassed. “Yeah, dad. We all have. A bunch of people went crazy! It’s about the box, right? And the sickness?”

John let her go. “Unfortunately yeah.”

“Mama T gave her family the tests and antibodies you brought, but now all the crazy people want to kill them really bad.”

John nodded. “Yeah, they want to kill people that have been cured, but you kiddos have never had the virus, so they’ll want you to be like them.” He slung off his pack. “However, I came up with a dumb trick that stops you from turning on each other.”

D’Argo took wearing a tinfoil hat the least well. “This is super dumb, dad. Like so dumb. How long do we have to wear this?” The girls were giggling hysterically about it, even Xhalax. They kept adjusting their own hats to make more and more complicated spirals on top.

“Oh for the rest of your lives unless we find the box and destroy it.” John had a glimmer in his eyes.

D’Argo was openly miserable. “You know the chance of that is really bad, right? This is a really bad situation. I’ve never been so tired. I don’t think we can keep this up.”

John’s glee dissipated immediately, and he rubbed his son’s shoulder. “You’re doing so well. I only need you to stay here for a bit longer. I’m going to go get the Stryker, and we’re going to leave, okay?”

“No, dad! Don’t leave us here. We can all go together. We’re okay.” Leslie’s voice was mostly one long panicked sob.

“You look like your thirty microts to another nose bleed. I don’t want to leave you here either, but a woman died crossing that street with us, and I can’t take that risk with any of you. But if you’re all here, with all these guards and people here to keep you safe, I think you can manage to wait a bit.”

“But...what if you get hurt?” Xhalax spoke in a whisper.

“I won’t. I’m coming back, but if you’re worried, check my track. If something happens to me, you get your butts to that ship and autopilot off this rock, okay?”

The children collectively sighed, too tired to debate any longer. John gave each kid one more long hug, stood, and dragged Scorpius outside. “I’m going to go get the Stryker, but you are going to stay here. It’ll be easier if I go alone, but if you stay here, I know the Matriarch won’t pull that shit again with my kids.”

“You pick wonderful babysitters,” Scorpius said dryly.

“You’re hilarious, Harvey. I’m going out a window, and there is nothing you can say to stop me.”

“Xhalax is right. You could die.”

“Then you make damn well sure that those kids don’t because they’d be your last chance to get off this rock in the Stryker. See ya!” He mockingly saluted and jogged away.

Scorpius scowled at John’s retreating back. The artillery gun was still firing, and there was blaster fire as well. Scorpius wasn’t convinced these were promising sounds. There was only one entrance into the atrium, so he took a moment to barricade the door. When he turned around, John’s children were behind him. “Yes?”

“Why are you here and not mom?”

Scorpius had little experience with talking to children, but if he told them their mother wasn’t here because she was infected and effectively braindead in a foil hat, they would likely panic or worse, cry. Thankfully he was an adept liar and this didn’t need much skill. “She’s with the resistance. They need to secure an antibody lab. I’m here to make sure your father actually returns in a timely fashion.”

“You’re doing a great job,” Leslie said blandly. A sneer twitched on Scorpius’s lip.

“When you were dropped off, your father took an entire solar day bringing you here. It delayed us immensely, perhaps the major flaw in preventing all of this. Already we are doing better than his previous record.”

D’Argo crossed his arms. “Well, how was he supposed to know that a drolnat cult thought leviathans were an insult to their planet god and had built a weapon against them? Bringing down that meteor finally broke the magnetic mechanism that hypnotized Moya. If it wasn’t for dad, you’d all be dead!”

“If it was not for your father, we would never have been orbiting Drolnatlund in the first place.” Scorpius was not about to let this ten-year-old incite him to anger. “Why were you unable to prevent the cult? You have the capabilities.”

“It’s hard to control multiple people, the more people, the more possibilities. Doing anything to a person hurts the most. It’s easier to affect non-sentient things. They are more predictable. Objects are the easiest.” D’Argo continued.

“Emotions are the hardest.” Xhalax chipped in.

“Yeah, and that whole cult thing. That was an emotion. How were we supposed to deal with that?” Zhaan nibbled her thumbnail.

Scorpius tilted his head. “Can you make a person not infected?”

“Yeah, that’s not particularly hard, but there are too many of them. That’s what we’ve mostly been doing this whole time.”

“Ah.” Scorpius glanced at the door. The artillery gun had stopped. The blasts were inside the compound. “How are you in combat?”

Leslie snorted. “We’ve never been in active combat, but our mom is an ex-peacekeeper.”

“Ahh.” Scorpius had never had to command children before either, but his survival mechanisms rarely failed him, the Establishment was inside the compound and were likely methodically clearing rooms, either spreading the contagion or killing. “Assailants are going to come through this door. They will be fast. You need to be armed with something so you can conserve your mental stamina. Do it quickly.”

The siblings nodded and bolted for their room, everyone but Xhalax. Scorpius was puzzled. “And you too.”

“I’m defense.”

Scorpius frowned. “You are very small.”

“Doesn’t matter. I’m defense.”

While the spawn was more capable then he had initially thought, imagining Xhalax performing defense was a bit hard to comprehend. He drew out his knife and handed it down to the five-year-old.

She took it with an odd reverence. “But I’m not supposed to have a weapon yet.”

“I won’t tell.”

Xhalax’s eyes got strangely rounder, and she nodded solemnly.

The door abruptly rattled in its hinges. The children returned, all equipped with bows, and the rest of the nursery came out with makeshift bludgeoning tools. The door shook again. A scared cry rang out from within the atrium. Scorpius directed the ranks to split up and barricade themselves into the individual rooms lining the atrium. The weakest to be paired with the strongest in the farthest rooms from the door. John’s kin would not separate into rooms and insisted on staying in the atrium. The door was still for many long moments as the room’s furniture was collected together into a low fort. Scorpius checked his pulse gun, meditated on their meek chances. D’Argo had flipped open his own silver disc tracker. John was nearly back to his ship. Despite his proximity, D’Argo’s breath was stuck in his throat. He was taking big long drags of air through his nose. Scorpius desperately wanted a cigarette. A long hush fell over the room before the door exploded off its hinges.

Drolnats sprinted through the doors, and as the first wave passed the threshold, the archway collapsed over them. D’Argo rustled Xhalax’s hair, who smiled and threaded an arrow. The other children did the same. Then the infected flooded in over the rubble, and as each one appeared, an arrow was freed, and as each arrow found its mark, it was recalled back to the hand of the shooter. D’Argo let three arrows fly, and called them back in a bundle he snatched from the air. Scorpius picked off the few that made it any closer than the door. They were efficient fighters, but as worn out as they were, what was the length of time they could fight without passing out. Xhalax effectively neutralized any projectile that came close to the barricade. The darts simply disappeared. Blasters rusted to pieces in the hands of the shooters themselves.

Several waves of drolnats passed into the room spread out and were ended, eventually the waves ebbed and ceased. Light glimmered through the ruined entry onto the dead in mots. A quiet had fallen. All the children’s noses were bloody. D’Argo had wiped his messily across his cheek, fussed with his tinfoil hat. The tracker pinged. “Hey, dad’s here!”

Zhaan and Leslie gasped, “But we can’t just leave all the other kids here! They’re defenseless!”

The children bickered about what they should do for the other unrelated offspring. Scorpius’s instincts were still howling. If the Establishment had directed their infected to attack outposts in this manner, why would there be any retreat in their command? Did they simply wipe out the nearest contingent of infected and the rest were on their way? Now screaming, D’Argo and Leslie were still at odds about what to do with the other progeny. Scorpius barked at them, and they immediately froze. “We can’t take them anyway. If you want to save them, leave now. Be alert. Something isn’t right.”

Leslie sniffled, but it could also be from the crusting blood. Surprisingly, they grouped into a travel formation, without backtalk, and peaked out the door. There was no one outside, but bodies dotting the ground. Through the open gate, at the end of the alley was the landing Stryker. It was perhaps a hundred motras. However, the counts weren’t correct. If the entire compound was turned by the contagion, those hundreds of drolnats had not been neutralized in the atrium. Scorpius scouted the rooftop edge, but the alley was completely protected from a sniper. “Go very slowly. Stick together.”

They shuffled nervously out into the compound and toward the alley. The gate swung broken, trapped ajar on a piece of rubble. D’Argo nudged it away to open the gate, an innocent mistake, but disastrous. The freed mine blanketed darts everywhere. After the shock wave of the bomb wore off, Scorpius staggered up, face stinging. His body armor had protected everything else, and he was immune to what hit him. However, John’s kids were not, and the darts speckled them like pockmarks. D’Argo kneeled in the red dust, eyes clouded. The others had toppled over and were limp but breathing. The foil was keeping the radiation from filling their minds with Establishment direction.

John was running down the alley with zero consideration for the possibility of more mines, dropped in front of his son, tried to pick the darts from his skin, only to give up. “No, no, no! Fuck! Fuck! I came back as fast as I could!” Tears pricked John’s eyes, and his body shook with barely contained grief.

“We can’t stay here.” He could barely restrain his own vocal panic.

“Help me get them to the ship then for fuck’s sake!” He began to shoulder D’Argo when a shimmer manifested around his son. John startled into the dirt.

The shimmer became like an orange web that grew fracturing from D’Argo to the other still children. Abruptly it disappeared, and D’Argo’s eyes unclouded. He blinked rapidly but when they fully reopened they had a feverish shine. He wiggled his fingers, he touched his face, he stared at his own fingertips. Then he giggled. Xhalax, Zhaan, and Leslie sat up with the same fevered glow, marveled at each other, touched each other’s faces. They communally giggled.

From the ground, John rubbed his eyes. “Okay. I’m at a loss.”

Together they turned to John and in unison spoke with a deep, unnerving voice. “You. What dimension is this?”


	4. The Establishment

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hurt John emotionally in this chapter. Sorry, bro.

John cleared his throat like his nerves had closed it off. “The third. This is the third dimension. And who are you?”

D’Argo, or the entity now possessing him, flexed his fingers again. He was entranced with them. The other children were doing their own curious stretches. “The third? How simplified.” All four of them spoke together in the same voice. John had scrambled up to examine his child closer, and his alarm was evident in his increasingly stiffer posture.

Scorpius’s instincts were still raging, but he wasn’t positive if it was from their current vulnerable position or the appearance of this new multi-dimensional being. “Crichton, we should retreat to your ship. We could be attacked here.”

The children startled at Scorpius’s statement, but then laughed. “You are two separate beings? You look so alike.”

John and Scorpius shared a concerned glance. “Riiight.” John shuffled to his feet. “I don’t know where you came from, but you’re in my kids’ bodies, and you can’t stay there. They aren’t your personal hotel room. You need to get out of them. Go find some other bodies. This dimension has plenty of them.”

All eight eyes flickered over to John, and analyzed him as if they were inspecting him on a cellular level. They all stood up as well, wobbly at first, but they adapted quickly. The wheels churned in their combined heads. “I will leave soon.”

For Scorpius, as it spoke unanimously, their body temperature visibly changed. His eye twitched. Whatever was inhabiting John’s children had just lied. A new wave of fear spilled into his guts. His instincts no longer cared that they were out in the open on a world that threatened attack from every direction, he did not want to be on the ship with this creature. John appeared equally worried, his face tense. “How soon?”

“As soon as I am able.” It lied again. “I have travelled very far, and am not at my full strength yet. I do not know how long it will take, but I don’t want this, these, bodies any more than you want me in them.” Scorpius wondered which of these following statements were lies.

“Perhaps we should stay here, and wait for you to recover.” Scorpius tried to pander to these falsities, to pick out which were fake.

All eight eyes swiveled to him, subjecting him to the same biological analysis he just watched John go through. Their eyes had a faint red shine deep behind their pupils. Scorpius wanted to wince, to shrink away from them. They had the same scientific, apathetic blankness of the Scarran scientists from his childhood. “Unnecessary. My recovery is not body, place, or time contingent.” This was true.

John hesitantly reached out to D’Argo, and uncapped the foil from his head. Scorpius was suddenly hopeful that they could easily be rid of this being and return to the predictability of the Nebari contagion. John was holding his breath, but moments later, there was no noticeable change. He breathed out disappointed.

“Are you often bombarded with this kind of radiation?” It said in an alarmingly curious voice. Zhaan, Leslie, and Xhalax took off their own hats on their own.

“No. Only today.” John groaned. Scorpius wanted to hiss at John to not say anything, to not share anything honestly, but he couldn’t voice these concerns in front of the being itself.

“It is valuable.” But before either John or Scorpius could delve into that statement, a drolnat stumbled into the alley wide-eyed with fear. As it scrambled to bolt back into the road, a hail of darts speckled its front, and as they watched the drolnat turned. Three more caught up, and attempted to fire on John. The entity inhabiting the children flinched and abruptly, the attacking drolnats’ were reduced to particulate matter.

John gagged. Zhaan’s nose popped with blood. She didn’t pass out despite a wobble in her legs and a sudden pallor, instead she giggled. The red mist of the drolnats bodies drifted in the wind until dispersing entirely. “Oh what bizarre laws! How absolutely novel!” The others exclaimed. “Show me more. That is a ship? Take me somewhere else.” It began to walk out of the alley on it’s four individual pairs of legs.

John and Scorpius hung back stunned. Scorpius grabbed John’s arm back as soon as the children made it to the end of the alley, “That thing in your children is a liar.” He whispered sharply.

John was visibly torn. “Yeah no kidding, but I need to keep their bodies safe. The plan still remains. We go help the resistance protect the lab and make a new antibody. If that doesn’t get this murderous weirdo out of my kids, we work from there. At least Aeryn will be able to help once she gets the new antibody.”

Scorpius frowned, “Your children, before being infected, were able to remove the contagion from individuals. I don’t like this option, but perhaps this being might be useful.”

“It gives me the creeps, but yeah, if we could maneuver it to help us make the new antibody for the irradiated contagion, then we can fix issue numero uno and see if that helps with issue numero dos.”

Scorpius nodded in agreement, but he was now aware that he would have to get on the small, crowded ship with this being. His skin prickled.

John was equally wary. “I don’t like the idea either.” But he headed to the mouth of the alley, where his children waited stiffly.

“What do you want us to call you?” John asked once he approached them.

“A name?” The entity collectively thought. “A good name for me would be Iracundia.”

The translator microbes picked apart the name for Scorpius, and probably for John too, depending on his own skill in Latin. “An old Earth word for wrath, anger, and resentment. Mmm, that word has connotations.” Scorpius said purposely neutral.

“Call me what you want then. It matters very little.” Only Leslie shrugged. It was getting a firmer understanding over the individual bodies in its control. Iracundia walked out into the road toward the Stryker, and on the rooftops above, red mist billowed over the edges where snipers once stood or hid. None of the children’s noses bled from this show of power. The being had likely learned to distribute the stress among its four brains equally. “This place is dull. Why are parts of you hostile? Oh, yes, you aren’t one being. Easy to forget. Come.”

As they approached the ship, the shields dropped on their own in a burst of pressure. One by one the children boarded the ship. John and Scorpius stood on the quiet, empty road and both breathed out. The dark entry of the ship waited in front of them. “Right.” John broke through his hesitation first and charged up into the ship. When Scorpius entered, the entity was huddled around the computer console. “—know that from my kids’ memories?”

Iracondia said nothing, but Xhalax reached out to touch the casing. Scorpius realized she still had his knife clenched in her other hand. He wanted it back but wouldn’t approach the creature for it.

John repeated the question he asked. “Hey Ira, I asked if you know what that does from my kids’ memories?”

“Yes. For multi-dimensional beings, they are rudimentary thinkers. Their thoughts. Messy.”

“I’m sorry, they’re what now?” John lurched.

All four heads tilted. “Multi-dimensional beings. Rudimentary. You are their progenitor, and you are ignorant of their superiority?” Zhaan scoffed.

“But they exist in one dimension, this one.” John inched closer.

Ira squinted. “No, they exist in the fourth dimension, and have a physical presence here in the third.” The entity had a bearing that suggested John was a dimwit. “Show me a wormhole.”

The ship was already launching as Scorpius slid between the children and slipped into the co-pilot seat. He lit a cigarette almost immediately and shuffled the notes on the console around in search of a pen and pad of paper.

John scowled, already tired of their demands. “If you are so freaking omnipotent, you’d know that if I make a wormhole, the ship is going to die and we’ll be floating powerless in space.”

“No. Do it.” The children were motionless. Meanwhile, Scorpius had found the pad that was used to label several Scarran characters on the console. A writing implement still eluded him.

John ground his teeth. “Why yes, yes sir. I think I know where the closest exit is for that antibody lab, so sure why the hell not.” John let go of the yoke as soon as they were clear of Drolnatlund’s gravity well, and drew out his setup to create a wormhole. Scorpius interrupted him with the hastily scrawled on pad. _Is this wise?_

John snorted, glanced at his children, then gestured for Scorpius’s pen. In Scarran, he wrote. _Better idea?_

The children’s eyes followed this exchange. “Show us that.”

John sucked his lip, flipped the pad upright.

The children squinted. “What does it say?”

“Doesn’t say anything. This is Elmer Fudd. This is Bugs Bunny. Can we keep drawing our cartoons or are you gonna harass us about all our hobbies?”

Iracundia unanimously glowered. A real heat appeared in their eyes. “Stop delaying. Or we will do it for you.”

“Aye aye, your majesty.” He tossed the pad back to Scorpius and shaking his head, began the wormhole sequence. “Scorpius, if you would fire the royal salute.”

Scorpius didn’t have a better idea. The only thing he learned from the interaction is that John’s children can’t read Scarran, but the entity known as Iracundia was confident it could learn complex tasks. It also was capable of threats and was suspicious of them in the same capacity as they were of it.

John hit the enter key and was visibly surprised the ship’s power didn’t drain. Ira wasn’t surprised either. In fact, it was blankly observing the window.

Scorpius, perturbed, fired the wormhole’s epicenter out into space. From the blue point, it curled outward. Iracundia was delighted. “Foundational!”

“Why?” Scorpius twisted around curious about their reaction.

Iracundia smiled. “Gates between worlds, times, universes, dimensions. To see the tunnel is to know the truth.” It was recited.

“What’s the truth?” Scorpius leaned inward.

Iracundia said an indecipherable word. Then in a change of heart, it said bitterly, “but it’s wrong.” The smile dropped from their collected faces.

When the wormhole expanded enough to fit the Stryker, John plummeted into it. He kept an eye on his computer screen. Scorpius assumed he had built-in a counter that changed based on his destination. Ten cycles ago, traveling a wormhole using John’s mental counting was haphazard at best. Still, piloting had John’s entire attention. “How did you stop the power drain?” Scorpius asked.

The children didn’t move their eyes from the viewport, but they eerily responded. “This John Crichton is behind. Other John Crichtons have already figured out the power drain problem. It was easy.”

John almost missed his next turn. “I’m behind?!” He spun out to recover. “I’m not behind!”

Leslie looked at him placidly. “You’re behind.”

“What else am I behind on?” He muttered as he curled into another turn.

Ira was mute for this question. In another time in his life, Scorpius would have desperately wanted to ensnare this alien. It was obscenely powerful. It’s knowledge ripe with potential. He would have done anything for Iracundia to get it in his pocket, to absorb whatever it had to offer. He imagined it replacing John’s wormhole data those many cycles ago. What havoc could it have reaped in the Peacekeeper war? How would that change have played out? In comparison, convincing Ira to make an antidote to the contagion was uninspired. They could ask it to do so much more, possibly anything.

What if he simply asked Iracundia to summon the box right now? Could it do such a thing? To set up his request, he’d need to be sure it was first possible, and second, that asking for the box would not present the problem of giving too much away to a creature who had made it more than clear it was a dangerous threat. He would wait.

  
The Stryker emerged from the wormhole. John whipped the ship up and over its edge only to reveal a massive firefight. Nebari cruisers flocked around a larger vessel, a carrier-class starship. The resistance ship they were attacking was cracked down the middle, and debris was spilling into orbit around the planet.

John immediately paled. “Aeryn.” The cruisers picked up the approaching Stryker on their sensors and turned to engage. Unlike before when Scorpius wasn’t positive if they were outmatched facing the single cruiser, now it was apparent. Even with the wormhole gun operational without power failure, the few that were struck and sunk barely lowered the assaulting ships numbers. The ship abruptly lurched. “It’s that damn gravity tether again!” He turned on his children now that steering the ship was pointless.

“Don’t just fucking stand there Ira! We need to save the resistance! Blow all these assholes up!”

The children were each equally unmoved in their own way. “Why should I care about your pitiful politics? It is none of my concern. The ship will not be harmed.”

“My kids’, which by the way, you are riding like a fucking tapeworm— my kids’ mom was on that ship! And it’s not your problem?!” John was spitting angry.

“I have seven progenitors and all are dead. It is none of my concern. If you become any more hostile, both parents will be dead.”

John’s temper crackled like lightning in the cabin. “What about that!” He gestured frantically at the Nebari starship outside getting closer by the microt. “How about blowing that up before it reels us in and slaughters us!?”

“I will not be slaughtered.”

“I’m so glad for you,” He rasped angrily. A vein threatened to burst in his temple.

Scorpius didn’t like their prospects either. While Iracundia was going to be fine, according to its own measurement, it said nothing about his, or John’s, own chances aboard the enemy starship.

The comms crackled. “Encrypted message incoming. Input code.”

John flung himself on the console, tapped something out in a blur. “Code accepted,” The robotic voice concluded. “John Crichton!” This voice was unrecognizable. “We’re planetside and taking heavy fire! I don’t know if we’re—. The intel says there is a contagion lab on Marius, in the outskirts of the Nebari cluster. If you can get there, Bitania is the contact. Reports suggest she— where the socket is.” The transmission ended with a click. John slammed on the console. Silence descended on the ship as John filled the cockpit with his own boiling illease.

Scorpius cut into it. He was familiar with John’s tantrums. “Do you believe the Nebari Establishment infected their own people with the contagion?”

“How the hell should I know?!” He snapped. “If I was obsessed with keeping everyone in line, I sure would!”

Scorpius would too, which made him curious who was left of the Nebari Establishment that was still making the decisions. Surely it would be one of the Nebari ruling families. The Nebari Establishment, to outsiders, was a technocracy. The smartest and most adapted Nebari were supposedly the ones appointed to sit at the table of thirteen. This was their moral compass. However, the Establishment was, in reality, an oligarchy. Nebari families were large enough and old enough that anyone appointed to a seat was normally within the same bloodline as the person leaving the seat. Scorpius doubted that with the contagion activated that the Establishment was still a united force agreeing to checks and balances around a table. As the starship loomed above them, he was sure they would find out soon enough.

The tether dragged them into the ship’s interior. The Stryker’s weapons had stopped working as soon as they were ensnared, the only thing that remained was the shield, which abruptly fizzled and dispersed inside the bay. John jolted into furious action. He pocketed the few remaining antibody autoinjectors.

Scorpius watched him hustle through the cabin around his immobile children. “You aren’t going to wear the foil?”

“If I get infected, at this point, who would care if I’m stabilized or not. You? Iracundia?” He said its name with a spiteful pronunciation.

For Scorpius this question was conflicting. Did he care? If he was the only person left in the galaxy alive and uninfected, what would he do? It went without saying that he would survive for as long as he could, but what lengths would he travel to reverse the effects of the contagion on his own?

“Yeah, that’s what I thought,” John said bitterly. Apparently, Scorpius had taken too long to come up with an answer. “If I get zombified, I’m coming after you first.”

Iracundia found this conversation intriguing. “Explain what is going on?”

“Oh, now you’re interested! I thought our politics were pitiful! You’re along for the ride, might as well get comfortable.” John opened the Stryker’s door and peaked out. Scorpius had expected an immediate barrage of fire, but there was silence. “Huh?” John had expected the same. “Where is everyone?”

Iracundia snaked around John and walked down the gangway. Xhalax had dropped his knife, which Scorpius collected before joining John at the door. The bay was empty save for intermittent piles of white powder. “Everyone appears neutralized. Perhaps they were hostile.” Scorpius quipped. John snorted.

The children were inspecting a pile of powder, and abruptly a Nebari stood in its place, the pile reassembled. He was visibly surprised and reached for his reassembled knife, but his fingers began to disassemble. The flesh peeled back to reveal muscle and then bone. The Nebari howled in pain and dropped to his knees unable to look away from his separating hands as his skin split up his forearms. “Speak. Who are you?”

“The. Nebari. Establishment. My name is Jovi,” He said between gasps of pain.

“Why attack?” Iracundia said blandly.

“The resistance wouldn’t. They wouldn’t leave the base. The stryker. It has Scorpius.”

“You attack us for him?” Xhalax and Leslie turned to peer at Scorpius. Scorpius felt daggers.

“Yes. Yes. Please stop.” Jovi’s bones were revealed up to his shoulders, and he was glazing over from the pain.

“Whose ship is this?”

“Nebari Etavana.” Jovi twitched like a gutted fish.

“That means nothing to me.”

“Blasters are useless.” Jovi said in conclusion deliriously, hovering between consciousness and unconsciousness. He immediately turned back to powder as Iracundia tired of him.

Etavana meant something to Scorpius however. John had turned around at ‘blasters are useless’ and was scrounging about the interior of the Stryker. “Crichton, I need to tell you something.”

John produced a fireman’s axe, swiveled it like a baton. “Don’t tell me. You’ve betrayed us all?”

“An exaggeration, but—”

The bay door opened, and an exceptionally well-dressed Nebari female entered. Her long coat was elegantly slashed in silver and collar piped in dark velvet, while her white hair towered high with jeweled pins. “Scorpius! Wherever have you been this last cycle?”

“High Commissioner Klara Etavana! Playing coy, while charming, doesn’t suit a lady such as yourself. You know where I’ve been. Your second cousin had issues with the arrangement. I was captured and placed in a stabilization facility.” He strode down the gangway and offered a low bow. From the corner of his eye, John glowered at him from his ship.

When he rose, the commissioner grabbed his chin, like one would grab a nipping dog. “My darling second cousin isn’t around anymore. However, the box was supposed to come to me. How did Nebari Trivaka get it? You’ve been out of that facility for some time, enough time to honor our agreement.”

Scorpius had set up this agreement back when he sought more information about the contagion and the trigger’s socket. Etavana was easy to manipulate. Like anyone in power, she wanted more power, and promising the box to her if she aided in his escape was easy enough. It also meant that if failure was imminent Scorpius would still have an iron in the fire with the Nebari. If Nebari Trivaka had the box then Aeryn’s statement in her infected state could only have been a trap. Trivaka was surely aware of Etevana’s machinations. “How many families have fallen to the contagion already?”

Etavana dropped Scropius’s chin, her face pinched shrewdly. “That’s very direct of you. The Trivakas are uninspired. They’re using the trigger quite poorly. I would say, no artistry at all, but where you got the idea that the Table is anything but united in our goals is absolute slander.”

Etavana’s resistance confirmed for Scorpius that it was absolutely true. The Nebari ruling families were getting infected. She moved past him into the bay. “Children! Oh what darling creatures! And John Crichton! Armed with an axe! How barbaric. I’m charmed.”

“I’m not.” John had yet to move from the door of the Stryker. “How about you keep Scorpius and I’ll be on my way?”

“Why don’t you infect him?” Scorpius said conversationally. Etavana’s eyes flashed at him annoyed. She couldn’t spread the contagion in her own ship. If she did, her house would fall in the same way other Nebari houses had fallen. Nebari Travaka was eradicating the ruling houses programming the commands through the trigger.

At this point, Iracundia gushed forward surrounding Etavana. Xhalax grabbed her hand, and in the child’s original voice, she pouted. “Miss, I’m scared!” A shiver jolted up Scorpius spine.

Etavana knelt. “As you should be, child. You must all be starving. Come along then. And Scorpius, Crichton, you’ll notice that blaster fire is nullified. You may keep your axe if it makes you feel better, brute. Now, what happened to my men here? How strange.” She said this with a scowl at Scorpius, but he found it ironic that she currently held the hand of the real perpetrator and was leading the creature out into the hallway.

The walk to the Etavana’s private dining quarters was filled with blithe statements from the commissioner towards John and Scorpius. John chose not to say anything to Scorpius, and every time Scorpius tried, John appeared to swallow his quaking rage to layer him with a heavy silent treatment. Iracundia, was able to act out all the children’s voices, though perhaps not their personalities. Etavana was convinced these were John’s children, and like anyone interacting with the young, thought they were innocent, fragile, and in need of comfort.

House Nebari Etavana’s dining quarters on their starship was ornate in gold, dark wood, and glass. The tableware was thin and sharp white shards. Etavana beckoned everyone to sit. The first course was served immediately. Neither Scorpius or John touched their plate, while the children picked curiously.

“Klara, why am I here?” Scorpius wasn’t going to wait through seven courses to get to the meat of what had brought them here.

Etavana tutted. “Scorpius, you didn’t used to be this demanding with me. It’s honestly quite rude.”

“Rude or not, High Commissioner, we’re in a state of war. We haven’t the time for niceties. Tell me what you want with me.”

Etavana clinked her knife on her porcelain plate sharply. “Nebari Travaka wants you brought to him and killed. He considers you an outlier. I simply want what you know. You can either kindly share it with me, or I can submit you to temporary stabilization.”

What she wanted was leverage with Nebari Travaka. She must know that temporary stabilization didn’t work very well with his hybrid qualities otherwise he wouldn’t have been in a stabilization facility for a cycle to get the location of the trigger. “You know where the socket is then?”

“Of course,” She said twirling her fork. “I can’t get anywhere near it, but a rogue Stryker? An infidel? That has possibilities.”

Before Scorpius could uncover more, Leslie interrupted. “Miss, we’re confused! Can you explain what’s going on?”

Etavana obviously starving for a change of topic, turned her full attention on the children. “Why, you poor dears, haven’t they told you anything?” She glared at John, who remained angry and wary.

“I wouldn’t tell them anything,” John grumbled at last. “I’m gonna be honest, they’re leading you on. They look like my kids but they aren’t.”

Etavana mocked a gasp. “What a silly game! If you aren’t John Crichton’s children, then you will be my own. The Nebari have always taken young children and adapted them to our ways. The first lesson is always honesty. Child listen, the Nebari have shared a gift with the galaxy. It is our way of being, morally and orderly. However, the galaxy is grotesque, hateful, and stupid, but we are smart, so we have convinced them to accept our gifts using our superior science.”

Scorpius grimaced. “Klara, John is correct. I would not tell them any—.”

“Enough!” Etavana growled. She turned back to the children. “You haven’t received the gift yet, but there are kinder ways to receive it. The brutish world has received it forcefully, but the logical can see the obvious choice.”

Iracundia was thinking. Leslie spoke in her own voice. “The sickness is how it spreads, and the gift is in the radiation. The radiation comes from a box plugged into a socket in a location only few know. Whoever possesses the box and socket can change the message in the radiation.”

Etavana clapped her hands, delighted. “Yes! How intelligent! If you stay with me, you will go far.”

Iracundia’s shared voice returned. “Wrong. I will go to the socket. All of you will become me.”

Etavana paused before laughing nervously. “What a strange skill? Ventriloquism?” But the children stood stiffly to leave.

John rebounded up, and hustled in front of the door. “Maybe I didn’t catch that Ira, but could you, uh, outline what you just said about the socket for us simpletons.”

“Do not block my way John Crichton. It is impossible to stop me. I know where the radiation is coming from. I can find its epicenter based on the intensity of the web across this small part of the galaxy. Since the radiation is programmable, I will place myself as its message. I will be in all the minds of the infected, and once I’m in everyone, your children’s power will be inconceivable. Their one weakness will be dispersed over the galaxy, and I will be able to change anything at my whim without the threat of collapse. You really are very simple. It will be better this way. Never before has the fifth dimension touched the third so thoroughly. It will be breathtaking to witness, elevating to experience. Come with me now and you shall be the first.”

“What is this!?” Rasped Etavana, who rose shaking from her seat in full indignation. “Some insane joke! A hoard of half breed children insinuating takeover from the perfect Nebari! It’s beyond insulting. I demand that you apologize and behave. I, the head of House Nebari Etavana and High Commissioner of the Seventh Seat, will regain control of the box from Travaka and establish the proper order, not some bizarre hive-mind hybrids.”

“Wrong again. Your dimension is backwards. To resist hybridization is to embrace putrefaction. No matter. I refuse to be insulted by one so inferior. What did you say before? ‘The brutish world has received the gift forcefully,’ so shall it be. I will make you all me, and we will be unified, and this sliver of universe will be improved.”

Scorpius had sat through this exchange without the desire to speak lest anyone’s attention snap to him. It was a trend that he was often blamed for increasingly bad circumstances especially with John in the room, so he stayed mute and watched the meal spiral out of control.

Etvana was up and stalking towards the closest child. “Whatever you are, and however you work— !” She barely made it across the floor before her legs were removed, clipped below the hip. She wailed in pain and fright. Her servants immediately plunged in toward the children to take revenge or to aid their mistress and were annihilated to blood, bones, guts, and dust.

“Get out of the way.” John, who was still hovering in front of their exit, brittly moved back.

The four children reached for the ceiling with their eight hands, and the entire room rippled as if an earthquake shook it. Iracundia had already left when a second wave blew out all the glass and porcelain, splintered all the wood. Scorpius was up quickly, but escaping the dining quarters was one obstacle after another as beams melted and floor tiles crumbled. John was gone within moments, bolting after his children.

In the thirty microts it took to make it to the end of the room, the space had aged to a ruin. The thick viewports cracked with a web of microfractures. Decompression warnings blared as Scorpius skidded between the closing pressure locks. Once out in the hall, everything was as it was before, clean and well-maintained. Scorpius hurried back to the bay, avoiding the piles of dust he found along the way. He was positive that if the children weren’t mentally united, these feats would have been challenging to execute without rendering them unconscious. Together, they were capable of much more. If they gained control of the socket, the resulting linked mind would be unimaginable.

Upon arrival in the bay, Scorpius ground his teeth. The Stryker was gone. It was no matter that John had left with Iracundia without him. He would simply find the bridge, uncover the socket’s location, and meet them there. With any luck, John would stop them before they execute their plan to ensnare the galaxy, but he soured at that thought, John was not lucky. That was one trend of John’s that was predictable. As he returned to the hallway, three Nebari turned the far corner, all with small smiles.

At first, Scorpius was pleased. As infected, they would take him directly to the socket, and once there he could reconnect with John and Iracundia, perhaps even usurp Travaka. However, they drew handheld weapons on him and offered no salutation similar to what Aeryn had said. Perhaps Travaka had altered his order that Scorpius remain unharmed because they approached in a hunter’s crouch. Scorpius upholstered his blaster and fired at the nearest. The gun backfired in a spray of sparks, sputtered dejectedly.

“Blasters are useless.” One said calmly. “Death will be swift if you let it.”

Scorpius drew his knife. Death would have to drag him howling to the grave, take his eyes and limbs too. The fight was brief even though Scorpius was out of practice with hand to hand combat. It hadn’t been his preference since he was young. The first attacker was clumsy and put too much weight into his feet. He got a knife in the chin. The second was semi-descent and held out longer, but after a few sharp parries, Scorpius ran the blade into her armpit. The third fought much longer, not from any particular skill, but from an uncompromising speed. Scorpius cut him to ribbons until he was unable to stand from blood loss and exhaustion. At the battle’s conclusion, he wondered how many infected were originally in-hiding on the ship, and how many he’d have to fight on the way to the bridge. There were few alternatives no matter the answers. He set off.

It was a large ship, and many halls were in lock-down. In his ascent to the bridge, he encountered many uninfected Nebari, who mostly ignored him in their panic to halt the spread of the infection without a leader. As he wove his way through the decks, he began finding brutalized bodies, hacked to death. The corridors to the bridge were in some places thick with them. The few left alive would still turn on Scorpius as he approached despite their hobbled states, hollowed eyed and smiling. It was simple to dispatch them. The infected must have taken the bridge.

The final door to the bridge was a smear of blue blood and corpses. The corridor lighting flickered erratically. A severed hand sat perched on top of the lock console, palm open as if waving to Scorpius. He stepped nervously to it, and placed it back on the door lock. The door wheezed open to reveal an emergency-lit bridge. Scorpius entered slowly, his heartbeat in his throat. The door shut behind him, darkening the room.

John caught him with the handle of axe under the chin and slammed him into the door. He was wild-eyed with a twitching, berserk rage. “Why? If it isn’t my old _pal_ Scorpius.” He disarmed Scorpius of the knife. The axe handle slowly crushed the breath from Scorpius. “Here to help, are we?”

Scorpius nodded hastily over the handle, unable to speak.

“Noooo, wrong, grasshopper. I’m sick of being your dumb idiot. I think it’s time you die.” He withdrew the axe to raise it above his head.

Hacking for air, Scorpius kicked at his knee and scurried for his knife.

John brought the axe down just as Scorpius rolled out of the way and jolted upright. “Crichton. I can help,” he wheezed.

“Yeah, sure, I bet.” He mocked. “All of this is your fault. You just had to make that stupid box.” Even in the dark, Scorpius could tell he was covered in blood. The heated anger twitching on his face burned fiercely.

Scorpius backed away as John walked forward. “If I wasn’t involved it would have happened anyway. Killing me won’t help anything.”

“It’ll make me feel a whole lot better.” John swung the axe again, which clipped the floor.

Scorpius dug mentally. “Think about your kids, John. How are you going to get Iracundia out of them?”

John jerked as if slapped. “Fuck you! This is your fault! Don’t use them against me! I already can’t do anything against Iracundia!”

Scorpius dug deeper. “We need to go to the socket, take the box out. You’ll need me. Only I can do it.”

“That’s a lie!” John bellowed, but the axe loosened in his grip and lowered to the ground.

“It’s not a lie.” It was a lie.

John grit his teeth, body rigid and poised like a beaten animal, but he turned away. “Fine.” He went to the bridge’s navigation console. “You don’t know what it’s like to lose the things you love. I can’t expect you to understand. What have you ever loved?” His voice was toneless.

It was a rhetorical question but Scorpius felt furious that he couldn’t answer it. In his head, the word revenge surfaced and sank dimly as if drowned. It had been some time since that emotion had driven him. He led a relatively passionless life now. There was plenty to experience, plenty of interests. These alone were excellent motivators, but love?

John typed out a destination blankly.

Scorpius sat in the flickering dark, struggling with his own anger. Part of him really wanted to crack John over the head for that ridiculous quarrel. Part of him was frustrated that all the strategies he had set up for protection had actually caused him more problems, and still a small sliver of him thought about Harvey, which he admitted was an odd concern to have at this moment.

“Where are we going?” He said at length.

“We are going to the socket,” John said quietly more to the navigation console than to Scorpius. His bloodthirsty wrath had ebbed.

“On this ship?” Scorpius thought about the infected still roaming the halls, expanding in numbers.

“It’s the only one we’ve got.”


	5. The Horizon

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Originally this story wasn't going to include any sexual content, but I surprised myself. It makes sense that this needed to happen in this series for it to come full circle.

Halfway to the socket, John and Scorpius were still camped out in the starship’s bridge. The room had been barricaded, yet they were under attack intermittently. Frightened Nebari had comm’d the deck multiple times in the early stages of the spreading contagion, and John, emotionally raw from hearing their pleas for assistance or direction, yanked the wire for the ship’s intercom. They sat in tense silence for arns. Neither one of them wanted to dismiss their anger and frustration of the other.

When Travaka hailed the ship, both Scorpius and John jolted up. It was a distress call.

“Nebari Travaka to Nebari Etavana. We read you on the edge of our sensors. We are willing to bargain for your aid. Four Sebacean children are moving through the base, and are unable to be stopped. We will halt the infection of your House if you come immediately to our location. If you are successful in preventing this assault, we will unite together. Travaka and Etavana, a new moral direction between two great Houses.”

John sighed dejectedly. “That doesn’t sound promising. Ira is already there.”

“We should agree. Then if they receive our message in time any uninfected Nebari on this ship will be assets.”

“You’re damn right we should agree. Not that we are going to make it there in time or be able to help them.” John scratched a flake of dried blood from his face. “Hmm, not that I want to help Travaka. You should respond, I never sound indubitably Nebari.”

Scorpius sent a return message. “How will we know if they have made the change?”

John sighed moodily. “Oh, I don’t know. When the infected knock on the door? Promise they won’t hurt us? Maybe they’ll pinky-swear.”

The ship rocked abruptly. Lights flickered abysmally until fading out. In the dark, the stars in the front viewport were crisp pinpricks. They flickered too.

“Well, that can’t be good.”

The ship’s deck began to shift. The floor pulled into one corner that was beginning to pulsate in the dark like a pit of coiling snakes. The console disappeared, and then the changes stopped, leaving the bridge a collage of psychedelic horror and reality. The corner no longer wiggled with scales but was left mutated and gooey.

“Ohhh, this definitely can’t be good.”

The barricaded door had become a crumbling archway from Drolnatlund then it fizzled to sparks. Entire trees sprung from sprouts in the hallway and choked the path as they bowed at the ceiling. For one microt, the bridge disappeared, and Scorpius and John stood in open space. The rest of the ship shimmered partially transparent behind them and ahead of them, the location of the socket, glimmered a new nebula, curling outward like an octopus’s tentacles. Despite the incredible distance, a castle sat at its core, a serrated black cutout. The ship clicked back together. While the bridge was reconstructed, the massive castle still sat at the heart of the nebula in the viewport.

“Iracundia.” Scorpius couldn’t hide the concern in his voice.

“Either that or Maldis has come back and is madder than hell.” John collected his axe. “I think we should run this funhouse. If Ira is in the infected now, maybe we can talk them down.”

The doors to the bridge never returned. They were completely exposed if the infected wanted to attack them. Perhaps it would be better if they went to the enemy and found out directly what Iracundia was planning on doing with the uninfected. As they stepped over the threshold out into the hall, they saw the new forest bisected decks. They could hear the ship groaning and shifting below them, beyond those sounds, there was nothing from the engines. Adrift now, they wouldn’t be able to change their heading from the socket or the ominous castle.

“Agreed.”

Several parts of the ship hadn’t returned to normalcy. There were halls that were whipped into a magnetic frenzy and had begun pulling rivets, microcosms of weather, places where gravity failed, pockets of decay or growth. John and Scorpius avoided these spots as best as they could. A large amount of the starship was corrupted, around almost every corner there was something altered from the mundane to the absurd. 

“Where are all the people?” John exclaimed once they’d weaved through a large swath of the vessel.

It was worrying Scorpius too. “Where is the largest room on any ship?”

“Cargo hold?”

Without agreeing they wound their way slowly down to the cargo hold. As they got closer, the abnormalities diminished.

At the door to the hold, John suddenly began bouncing nervously like a boxer preparing for a match. “I don’t like this, Scorp. I’m getting the heebie-jeebies.”

Scorpius felt ill. He would’ve abandoned ship if he knew of anywhere else to go. Nothing could travel away from this situation fast enough.

The hold was a long, high-ceiled space with columns. As John entered, the room lit up in stages revealing the rows and rows of kneeling Nebari. They were perfectly organized in systematic groups and were unmoving. Only the rise and fall of their chests proved to Scorpius that they were alive.

“Iracundia must be exceptionally overloaded,” Scorpius whispered to John. 

“Yeah like a computer. The central processor is my kids, and all these people are the RAM.”

“John Crichton. Scorpius.” The room spoke in unison. “To think you aren’t one of us already.” Some heads lifted, and in the feverish eyes of the possessed, red.

“You don’t look like you're about to change that,” John said plainly.

“Too many memories. All of you have a...taste? So many thoughts. It’s no matter. I’ll get around to you eventually. There is nowhere to go. The galaxy is already experiencing my influence. Come closer.”

The hold shivered and disappeared. In its place was an open, star-speckled sky and a flat plane in black and white tile. The sky curled with red and orange particles like an aurora borealis. At one end of the plane, metras and metras away was the impossibly large castle with gargoyles the size of command carriers.

“Drat,” Iracundia’s voice echoed from some unknown location and faded out. The entity was clearly having a challenging time fully controlling the children’s powers and the millions of infected minds.

“This is not how I thought this day was going to go,” John muttered dimly.

“Is that the Stryker?” Scorpius squinted at a metal speck on the parquet horizon. 

“Of course it’s not the Stryker.” John squinted at the same speck, but before offering any other confirmation, headed towards it. Scorpius followed briskly, and after the first hundred motras, it was visually confirmed the ship was the Stryker, sitting unaffected on the black and white plane. “Well, I’ll be damned! Hey! Crazy idea, but we could go to the fifth dimension.”

Scorpius mulled over this idea. “You think they will be more reasonable than Iracundia?”

John grit his teeth. “Uh, maybe?”

Scorpius was surprised that this actually seemed like an adequate proposal and assessment. “How would we get to the fifth dimension?”

“See this is the part I don’t like. I could visit Einstein. He’s a multi-dimensional being too. Maybe he’ll know how.”

“There are a lot of ‘maybes’ in this plan.”

“Okay, well, it’s either we go to that castle?” The castle was still growing, spires building black and inky, higher into the nebula’s coils. “Or we get in a wormhole and go in the complete opposite direction.”

Scorpius wouldn’t call himself a coward, but he had thought about running for several days already. Iracundia, the castle, the spatial anomalies all blended into a mixture that whispered ‘this will kill you.’ Any alternative to walking blindly into the enemy’s den would merit his support. 

When they had made it to the Stryker, two things had changed. First, the console was suddenly in English. Iracundia, riding inside John’s children, was unable to learn Scarran and must have used their powers to change the console to a language they could read. But second, and more vital to the plan, the wormhole computer was missing. 

John was surprisingly unaffected by this turn of events. He fell into his seat and dug between the cushion. He pulled out his journal, dogeared and battered. “This!” He slapped it into Scorpius’s chest.

“And this is?” He’d seen John working in this book before.

John suddenly looked nervous. “Oh uh,” He plucked it back from Scorpius’s hands. “All my wormhole stuff.” He opened it to the back where Scorpius could see an unorganized list of coordinates that went on for pages. “When I find a wormhole in the wild, I log it. My kids wouldn’t know that. It’s just something I do.”

Scorpius had a much smaller list that existed in his own head. Coordinates were easy to remember. Over the last ten cycles, Scorpius had spent more time than previously grounded to planets. There were fewer wormholes to encounter when he wasn’t transversing the galaxy. John, a professional smuggler and pilot, had naturally seen more.

John flipped through the list and tapped one. “This one. We’ll go to this one.” Scorpius, peeking at it, took the journal from John, who was already engaged with the rest of the cockpit. He wiped all the post-it notes to the floor in a large dragging sweep. With the console in English, the labels were redundant. “I can’t believe they did something useful! I never even thought to ask the kids to do this.” He flipped the engine ignition switch. It grumbled to life.

“Do you remember how to get to Einstein?” Scorpius was shaken by their sudden fortune. Iracundia simply abandoned the ship once arriving at the socket. Stripped it of the wormhole technology, yes, but with John’s list finding a natural site was feasible.

“Can’t forget. I don’t think he’ll be too happy to see me.” John’s hand hovered over the yoke for a second. “How many brain cells do you think I have left for smiting?”

Scorpius tilted his head. “You have brain cells?”

John chuckled tiredly. “You’re killing me with that deadpan.” Having returned to the wheel, he guided the Stryker out of the atmosphere.

“You’re a hard man to kill. I will try any tactic.”

John shook his head, hiding a poorly cloaked smile. “Har—Scorp, whoever you are, you do realize the biggest give away that we are screwed is _you_ making _me_ laugh. Either that or I’m so tired, ‘m not thinking right at all.”

“Likely both.” He turned back to John’s notebook, which he would be memorizing every page whenever John was unaware. He wasn’t above stealing information from this man, no matter the odd camaraderie they’d struck up in the last few days. “Based on our current location, we can arrive at the nearest wormhole if we travel at a minimum of 8 hetch for two days.”

“We’ll have to go faster than 8 then.” Despite his dark-rimmed eyes, a spark flickered in them.

“Are you mentally able to drive at speeds above 8?” To Scorpius, John appeared half dead regardless of his excitement.

“Outer space is a lot of empty space, Scorp, but let me know if I’m about to hit anything.”

“Outer space is currently in the process of destabilizing. I can’t understand why you won’t put it in autopilot. You need sleep.”

John frowned tightly. “Can’t make any promises.” Then the cockpit got quiet as John coaxed the Stryker through space. Scorpius spent the silence flipping through the journal, which when he glanced at John to see if he cared, or even noticed, was met with John’s dimly lit profile, eyes wearily focused forward. For some reason, Scorpius recognized he wanted John’s attention. Every time he glanced over, he had a strange thrilling desire to catch him looking back, which if John was well-rested and alert, he likely would be. Yes with suspicion and distaste, John would be looking at him. Scorpius found he missed John’s concern, but he also didn’t think it wise to disturb his depleted focus from the task at hand. He smoked another cigarette.

Well into the trip, John groggily said. “Music?” He had fished out a small black device with a lit screen and a circular button.

Scorpius was dozing again. “Motown?” He said automatically without being fully awake.

“Marvin Gaye, the Supremes, or Stevie Wonder?”

“Diana Ross.”

John snorted. “Sure thing, Harvey. I only have Diana Ross and the Supremes. That work?”

Scorpius nodded, slipping back asleep to the sound of the ship rattling distressingly and Love Child. The time was spent quietly, either dozing or snacking on food cubes. By the third read-through of John’s journal, Scorpius had memorized most of it. Some of it was useful, but most of it was unsubstantiated theories. The computer that Iracundia either destroyed or simply moved held the majority of the functional equations. Still, Scorpius was in decent spirits despite their circumstances.

When they arrived at the wormhole, it was open already, shimmering like a welcoming beacon. John didn’t stop and jetted straight into it. He had gotten smoother traversing them despite his fatigue. Without counting aloud, he remembered the turns to take and shortly the ship appeared on an iceberg. This wasn’t what Scorpius expected. John was green with sudden fear.

“Let’s get this over with.” He stood shakily and ambled out the door. Scorpius followed closely. It was snowing outside, and the iceberg didn’t seem to occupy a planet or an atmosphere or outer space or anything remotely familiar. It was simply there, an iceberg. An elderly man with pitch-black eyes dressed in a simple suit walked out of the snowfall. John gasped, and fell to the ground clutching his head. 

“John Crichton, I thought I was clear.” The man said blankly apathetic. “I helped you many times before. Go back.”

John was curled down groaning, his forehead on the ground. “Please, Einstein. My kids…” He begged through whatever was harming him. 

Scorpius hovered nearby, an itch had started in his lower spine while watching John writhe. It was a familiar itch, but it was difficult to determine if he enjoyed it or not. He spoke up instead. “Our universe is being threatened by a fifth-dimensional being. Crichton believes you can take us there.”

Einstein slowly changed his focus from John to Scorpius. It felt like a weight had been lifted off John, who swallowed fitfully but remained hunched. “I’ve told Crichton multiple times your universe matters little, therefore your livelihood matters little.”

Scorpius disliked how small he felt standing in front of this new dimensional creature. He tried again. “A creature from the fifth dimension has taken over the minds of four children from the fourth dimension and is using their powers to destroy our universe.”

Einstein frowned. “What powers? What children?”

John had recovered enough to sit up. “Look inside my head.”

Less than a microt passed before Einstein frowned deeper. “Your children aren’t of your dimension. They fall under my domain. We will go to the fifth dimension to plead your case.”

“Plead my case?” John grimaced angrily. “Plead my case! They shouldn’t be possessing people!”

“I cannot give you any more insight into the fifth’s workings. I don’t understand their processes, but speaking to them is the first step. Prepare yourself.” And the iceberg disappeared in a blink. The ground remained, but suddenly Scorpius was alone in an endless dark void.

In the vast emptiness of this new space, there was a bright beam of light like a sun coming over a dark horizon. However, Scorpius was able to approach it, put a hand behind it, and no matter how close he got to it or how he interacted with it, the horizon always seemed far off. If he peered around it, he could see John from the corner of his eye, upside down and interacting with the horizon in the same confused way. The light cresting over the horizon’s edge was impossibly bright, and Scorpius wasn’t able to focus on it directly. Long after his curiosity persisted, Scorpius spoke. “Hello. One of your kind is destroying our galaxy, and could very well take the entire universe if it isn’t stopped. Please, we beg you to help us?”

The horizon did nothing. Scorpius frowned, and spent a moment scanning the darkness behind him. There was nothing else here. He imagined that the creatures they needed to speak to were perhaps hiding in the pitch black, and he was the foolish dimensional primitive speaking to their light stand. Finally, he poked at the core of the light, and that got its attention. It opened into a fracturing prism, growing quickly outward. The black disappeared as white light and prismatic rainbows imprisoned Scorpius. He could see himself standing in the room, then he could see every memory he ever had in the room. And the vision split further, he could watch himself in every memory he ever had all at once. Then, a pain, like a cold needle inserted into the root of where his central nervous system met his peripheral.

During all of this, Scorpius still had the awareness to wonder if all high life forms were like this: apathetic, scientific, but his experiences were brief and limited. There was an awe that this entity was splitting his mental capacity into groups, and he was able to experience each without becoming overwhelmed. His memories ran. He watched his memories from third person. His whole body was electrified down to the last synapse. His own ability to view all this rationally functioned. When the emotional manipulation happened, Scorpius wasn’t ready, nor was it his expectation that the entity cared. His logical mind chided him for being so short-sighted. Any being performing a thorough analysis would want to delve into every facet of a creature, including the indecipherable goo that constituted emotions. 

It began simple enough. Scorpius’s current emotions were chipped out of him. He was scared on multiple levels for obvious reasons. This process was intense and invasive. He wasn’t sure if it would stop, or if it ever would. Fear also drove them here. The splitting followed his fear down deep into his psyche and took every emotional path that branched from it. Anger was next. He wanted to tear the thing out of him. He was indignant, spiteful, full of spit and venom at being handled like a pickled frog open for dissection. There was no feedback from the alien. It carded through his emotions without any response. His rational mind judged his emotional reactions as fruitless like he was howling into a pit, into an ever-expanding black hole. At long last, it hit sadness, and all of his minds lurched sharply to prevent this creature from investigating that chain. They were quieted abruptly. He was a lonely child in a hot room perpetually at the brink of death. Grief brought him to his knees, he wailed and retched. He sobbed out painfully, and cowered away deep into his mind, curling, forever curling inward, hiding. It was too much.

It went on for an ungodly amount of time, or it was a blink, but the entity moved away, crammed all the fractured components of Scorpius back together in an instant.

The Stryker floated in open space. Astonishment gripped Scorpius as he touched the edges of the co-pilot seat, touched his own torso, face. 

“Did you poke the light?”

Scorpius practically evacuated his own body, he was so on edge. John appeared twenty years older, similarly bone-weary, sitting on the other side of the cockpit. There were dark circles under his eyes, and where there were once laugh lines at the start of all this, he had a pained expression. His sigh racked through his body. Scorpius’s heart constricted sharply. _I’ve loved him for fifteen cycles._ Scorpius frowned, tried to drag that thought away. It was a ridiculous idea, a laughable one. It had no purpose here. “Yes.” He said around his mental struggle.

“Far out.” He slumped forward into his dirty hands, dragged his facial skin down. “Did that seem like they were going to help us?”

“No.” _I’ve loved him for fifteen cycles._ It was still banging around in his head. He clenched his hand into a fist. This was obviously Harvey’s fault, and this multidimensional alien’s fault for putting his emotions back together incorrectly, but the idea wouldn’t leave. He had never faced such insurmountable problems as what was in front of him and his brain was producing ludicrous frelling statements like _I’ve loved him for fifteen cycles._ It was obviously from stress. It was obviously from the trauma of whatever that experience was. He was obviously going insane, and he might as well, they were no closer to stopping John’s children.

“I’m going to land.” John labored heavily to guide the ship down to the nearest planet, his whole body afflicted with a weighted exhaustion. Scorpius hadn’t seen him sleep in days.

The planet wasn’t much. It was unoccupied sand dunes and ocean but had a breathable atmosphere. The Stryker landed poorly and lurched in the sand. Despite his exhaustion, John unbuckled from his seat and was out of the ship as soon as it was grounded. 

Scorpius took his time. The distracting thought was still haunting him. It could not be silenced and was beginning to grate on his frayed nerves. John Crichton was an infuriating, mind-boggling, idiotic, childish, argumentative distraction, not to mention unavailable and uninterested. Scorpius also could not love anyone, anything, obviously. Harvey was able to love, supposedly, but he was in no way, shape, or form influencing Scorpius, because how could he, Harvey was gone. He would admit that John was attractive, however. There was a certain specific thrill he felt when Harvey emulated John and they coupled, but he reasoned the thrill out long ago as licentiousness. Maybe all of that was now influencing him. Maybe that multidimensional being jostled something loose and put it back improperly.

In the length of time it took him to dispel that troubling idea with reason and light a cigarette, he made it to the ship’s door. Beyond it was several motras of black sand, a calm ocean wake, and John, waist-deep and shirtless, bathing. 

The gore of his murder spree through the Nebari starship was stubbornly dissolving away into the cyan waters. He rubbed furiously at his arms and picked at the scabbed wounds he had failed to treat properly. His back muscles shifted fluidly under his tan skin. He dunked under, but when he emerged again, Scorpius had wandered down the gangway to the beach as if in a trance. _I’ve loved him for fifteen cycles._

“Frell.”

How could he be in love with this person and for so long? Fifteen cycles was a third of his life. Fifteen cycles ago he hadn’t exactly met John, but arrested him for trespassing, submitted him to torture. John was fascinating from the start because he was incredibly exotic. He had no knowledge of the galaxy’s ways outside of a single cycle, and of course, the wormhole data hidden away inside his mind made him precious. Was that the beginning of love? Scorpius had attributed it to obsession. He went on to hurt John in multitudes of ways, and vice versa, until John tricked him, blew up his command carrier, and stole back the wormhole data. Then Scorpius was forced to change tactics. The Earth saying was “you catch more flies with honey,” but the damage was done. John was adamantly against Scorpius. 

John waded up out of the surf, dripping wet, shorts clinging. Scorpius had slammed on his emotionless mask as soon as they had landed and begged himself not to let it degrade. “That’ll kill you, you know.” He slid his legs roughly back into his leather pants, threw on his shirt.

Scorpius was lost at the purpose of that statement. Did his face give him away?

“Cigarettes. They’ll kill you.” John restated as he got closer.

Scorpius wanted very badly to be hurt, to be suffocated to unconsciousness. He absolutely deserved it, and he wanted control back over his throbbing heart. Before he simply would’ve baited John to attack him verbally or better yet, physically, but now, with this awareness, he craved more, and John would never agree to satisfy him. Anger sprung up in him.

Meanwhile, John looked two steps into the grave, exhaustion and grief blanketed his face. He flung himself down on the sand in a controlled stumble. He tucked his hands under his head and looked up at the acid green clouds, at Scorpius. “It’s pretty here.”

Scorpius sat quickly, swallowed, floundered for words. “We need a plan.”

John said nothing, and when Scorpius glanced back at him. His eyes were shut, and he had the collapsed look of someone asleep. The exhaustion and grief that was there moments ago was gone, replaced with peace.

Scorpius had the sudden urge to lie back next to him, but he resisted it fretfully. He was spending far too long considering John’s sleeping face, and it gnawed at him. John’s strengths were hard to define. He was an absolute moron _and_ an absolute genius, an idiot savant. The galaxy had made him crazy and cruel, but he accomplished courageous feats with this brutal, uncompromising bravery. He was stubbornly idealistic. He made friends as fast as he accumulated enemies. How could a man be so enigmatic and also straightforward? If Scorpius went to any town in the territory and asked any passerby about the human John Crichton, they’d have a story. He was already a legend. The galaxy would not forget about him for a long time. 

He had been chain-smoking for a while and making zero progress on developing a plan. He was more aware of John’s eyelashes, a healed cut on his throat, and the accumulated scars on his knuckles. When he had moments of clarity, he thought about the entity inside John’s children, Iracundia, their godlike, twisted powers, and the bright prism horizon in the void. His thoughts were impossible to organize. He cycled between anger and despair every time he considered them. It almost felt safer to get lost watching John’s rising and falling chest. After an absurdly long time zoning out on the beach with John lying asleep so temptingly close, Scorpius was unable to stand his discomfort anymore and he stalked back to the ship.

The bathroom was small but had a lock on the door, which wasn’t enough of a barrier for Scorpius, but it was the only one he could physically construct. He sank to the ground. He was sure that this was it, he was going insane. The visit to the fifth dimension had unraveled him completely. Still, he unbuckled himself. The daydream spun up easily. John’s mouth on his neck, sucking on his artery, palming his cock. He stiffened in his own hand. John struggled his own pants down and off. He straddled Scorpius’s hips, guided his hole down onto Scorpius. In the bathroom, Scorpius sputtered, rocked his hips into his hand.

Scorpius was naked, which hadn’t featured in any of his previous sexual fantasies. John’s hands were electric on his body like stoking embers back to life in a frozen wasteland. His mouth sucked at his scars, dragged a thumbnail over his nipple. Scorpius struggled to remember what that sensation felt like, the frustration from forgetting adding to a flicker in the back of his mind demanding to be hurt. _Hurt me. Hurt me._ “Please.” He gasped and jerked into his fist. John wrapped his hands around Scorpius’s throat, squeezed. Scorpius dizzily took sharp breaths. He paced his hand to John riding his erection. Desperation was building, but Scorpius clung onto the sensation loaded into each touch. Cumming meant it would sharpen, stab, and disperse abruptly. If he could hold onto it forever, savor it, that would be better than returning to the truth. John wouldn’t do this.

Scorpius’s addled brain supplied ‘yes, John wouldn’t do this’ instead he’d take Scorpius. Harvey’s memory from the dunes flooded in. Scorpius groaned, and snaked his other hand down between his legs, fingered himself. John would surely fuck him roughly, press his legs up, enter him quickly and fully. He stuttered out a hiss. For the first time in a long time, his heating unit hummed angrily as it switched into emergency mode. Overheating added another layer of tortured pain into the fantasy, folding it in. John licked into his mouth, dragged his tongue over his teeth, bit his lip. Scorpius was drowning. He was transforming into a single twisted, burned-out nerve.

_Hold onto it._

John ground into him.

_Hold onto it._

His own throbbing heart was suffocating him.

_Hold onto it, please._

But he was jerking in his hand. John was moaning against his neck.

_Frell, please._

John gasped, “I love you.” And Scorpus convulsed as if all his bones in his abdomen were shattered. His teeth sank into his lip as he came violently. He made some kind of wailing sound, but from deep in his twitching blackout, he couldn’t care.

A fog had rolled into his mind; soft, and cool. At least his heating unit was recovering. He watched the ceiling blankly until he could string two thoughts together. Without judgment, he revisited parts of his fantasy, sending lingering shivers up his spine. At length, he began to condemn them, which proved to him that his higher functioning was returning. He sat up hazily, then stood to clean himself up, put himself back together. Not everything fit back as it did before. He felt jagged under the harsh lights.

He fell asleep in the Stryker’s copilot seat, an impersonal embrace. He had no dreams.

When he resurfaced from sleep, John was back in the pilot seat, and the Stryker was jetting through space. Scorpius didn’t want John to notice that he was awake, so he watched him through half-open eyes. From the day before to now, John appeared partially recovered. Sand still speckled him, and he was tanner. He must have slept long under the beach’s sun. A semblance of his familiar energy had returned as well, his eyes brighter. Scorpius observed him subtly for a long time.

“Are you gonna say anything or what?” John said without looking over.

Scorpius shifted abruptly. He wanted to return to the simpler time before he was hyper-aware of his limbs and broken glass emotions, before he felt like a perpetual stubbed toe. Still, the galaxy spun on. He couldn’t keep feigning sleep. “There is nothing to say. I can’t think of a plan.”

“Is that a first for you?” John snorted.

Scorpius frowned. “Not everyone has the gift of being so vacant minded.” Then he mentally kicked himself. He could flirt with women. He had flirted with John before, in reflection. Now he seemed unable to shake this banter they’d formed. 

“Oh, I have a plan.”

Scorpius was torn between relief that someone had a plan and worry. John’s plans were surface-level at best, and at worst, absolute treacherous disasters. “Ah.”

“Try not to sound so excited. We’re going to go back to the socket and get the wormhole computer. I think if we use it on the socket, the kids won’t be able to bring it back.”

“That isn’t a plan. It’s missing some key elements.”

“It’s a work in progress.”

“Will the progress happen before or after we are surrounded by a hostile entity?”

John humphed annoyed. “I’ve been thinking about what happened in the apartment. Do you remember what you thought happened?”

Scorpius sought through his memories for the apartment. The apartment felt like an eternity ago. “Yes, Xhalax, under duress, used her powers to share the location of the socket with the attacking Nebari.”

“You said you thought it was a common outcome. That the soldiers could know the location of the socket because in a majority of universes you were stabilized.”

“Yes and?”

“It wasn’t proving that the contagion and the socket were inevitable. It was a fluke! Every time the kids use their powers, they are basically mentally searching for alternatives in a wormhole. Anything can be at the other side of a wormhole! It’s just if they search too long or deep or specific, their little brains break. It is probability, sure, but Xhalax went searching for a way to keep you alive, and the wormhole in her mind directed her to a _time_ when all the Nebari knew the location of the socket. I mean a huge chunk of soldiers probably know the location now, huh? They are all one being.”

“This seems tangential to the problem.” Scorpius was enjoying this animated John.

“What I’m saying is if we suck that puppy down a wormhole, Ira is going to have a hell of a time getting it back. They use wormholes to get to alternatives, they don’t take things out of wormholes.”

“An untested theory, and also doesn’t help illuminate any other steps in this supposed plan.”

“Look, Iracundia took the computer out of this ship on purpose. Do you think they put it in a broom closet? It’s probably just sitting in the socket chamber.”

“Are you suggesting we walk into the socket chamber?”

“Iracundia only seems to care about hostile creatures. I absolutely don’t want to hurt my own kids.”

“I want very much to be rid of Iracundia.” Scorpius growled.

“Well, reel it in Scorpy. Refocus on destroying the socket and the box, and we should be okay. We can fly under their radar.”

Scorpius shook a cigarette out into the palm of his hand and frowned, peeked in the now empty box. He wasn’t a superstitious person, but it struck him as foreboding to smoke down to the last. Still, he lit it.

“Hey. Can I have some of that?”

Scorpius had a childish urge to lick the length of it, and hand it to him, but one glance at John’s smirking mouth quelled him. He passed it. “They were originally yours.” He said simply.

“No, they were my dad’s. He’s not going to miss them.” He took a drag lazily, grimaced a bit. “Yup, that’s dad.” He passed the cigarette back. “We’re probably going to die. I mean, I don’t know about you, but if I can’t save my kids, Ira is going to have to kill me, because I won’t stop trying until I’m dead.” 

Scorpius saw the truth behind it, and it pained him in a sharp way. He was more tongue-tied than usual. Inspiring hope wasn’t one of his skills anyway and the situation was dire. “If we don’t stop Iracundia now, it won’t matter.”

“That’s optimistic!” John chuckled darkly.

“I’m not an optimistic person.” Scorpius wondered if there was a decipherable taste on the cigarette end. If that taste was John’s lips or some illusion.

“Yeah, being a realist is a bitch.”

“Before we execute this plan, I’d like to know why you saved me from stabilization.”

John flicked the ash off carelessly, propped his leg up on the front console. “Okay, yeah I can do that. When the resistance raided that Nebari facility, our mission was to take back all the resistance fighters that were being transitioned there. We had split up and were running through all the aisles because there were about a hundred or so people in various states of stabilization, we were only looking for twelve. Anyway, I’m running through, scanning the names, and lo and behold! Your name was on a tank, and I had to stop. At first, I laughed about it. Like ‘ha, not so high and mighty now! You’re going to become some morally pure bastard enslaved to the Establishment’s wiles.’

But the longer I stood there and thought about how much you’d hate it, I realized it wasn’t right. Nobody should have their autonomy taken like that, and definitely not someone like you, no matter what you did. Just thinking about you with that weird little smile the infected get gives me the creeps. Anyway, I arrived at our launch point with you, and I got completely roasted for it. But no one was going to convince me to leave you there, since the core of being in the Nebari resistance was to quit all the Establishment bullshit. We called Nerri, he weighed in, and basically said it was my problem. 

Aeryn practically killed me when I got home. At this point, I regretted my decision a little, but we agreed if you woke up, we’d let you out, call it a lapse of judgment, be done with it. But the next day the Establishment didn’t give a crap about the twelve people we took, they cared about you, so Nerri called me, sent me a bunch of guards. You woke up a few days later, and here we are. Makes me wonder how all this would have played out if I’d left you there.”

Scorpius was, for once, thankful John was prone to lapses of judgment and that this one time it included him. He would’ve hated being stabilized. It went against everything he’d stood for his entire life. Choice was invaluable. He really wanted to grab his face and lick him, but that would’ve destabilized whatever precious common ground they’d carved out. He was skilled at restricting his impulses for time immemorial, but they never pained him in quite this way. 

“It’s your turn since we’re doing this confession crap. Why are you like Harvey?”

Scorpius dragged on the cigarette. It was burning down quickly. There was so much to be sad about. “Harvey was me. I’m not _like_ Harvey.”

“You know what I mean.” When Scorpius tried to pass it back, John shook his hand. “You can finish it.”

Scorpius considered the glowing ember eating slowly into the leaves, then he sucked it down greedily, killed the dying red end. “When I learned you had a clone that couldn’t be removed, the neural leftover, I developed two processes: one to duplicate the clone onto a chip and one to control the remaining clone. The neural bleed clone was a loose end, and I recognized correctly that it had helped you hide your lies aboard the command carrier. You are aware of how the controlled neural clone behaved since it convinced you to get me on Katrazi and disappeared when the wormhole information was removed, but the duplicate,” Scorpius sighed, “he had a kind of Stockholm syndrome. It took a very long time to assimilate him back into my psyche, but afterward, I was able to access all his memories like they were my own. This included his— compulsions, I suppose.”

“Stockholm syndrome huh? Is that why you sometimes get that look on your face?”

Scorpius pulled his eyes up to meet John’s. “What look?”

“See, that look? I’m _married_ , Scorp.”

“Your marriage is a galactically-unrecognized Earth tradition.”

“I recognize it, and I have a thousand other reasons my answer is no. Talk about carrying a torch. It’s been ten cycles.”

Scorpius said nothing. Internally, he was screeching. He hated the idea that he was emotionally transparent to others and yet still ignorant to his own. 

“You’re doing a great job keeping it in your pants.” John clapped him on the back. “You ready to probably die or save the universe? I don’t see any reason to drag this out.”

There were a thousand reasons Scorpius would like to drag this out. The dread of flying back to the castle and facing an unstoppable creature with a short-sighted plan was enough of a reason. The other nine hundred and some odd had mostly to do with the fact that he appreciated being alive. More so now despite, or maybe because of, his newfound uncomfortable feelings. However, he didn’t want to express this to John.

The trip back to the socket was short. Either Iracundia had distorted the distance or the human saying “time flies when you’re having fun” was applicable. The trip featured John signing along to a variety of different pop songs. He was an atrocious singer. Scorpius oscillated between wanting to kill him and wanting to slide between his legs and silence him a different way. 

When the castle became visible even as a speck in the viewport, John became quiet, turned the music down. The fabric of the universe seemed to bend around it, placing the looming structure in a visual divot. As the Stryker approached, the castle filled the view with its crumbling stone exterior. The structure was pitted with massive windows, doors, and elaborate monsters. John flipped open his kids’ tracking device and steered the Stryker into the pupil of a glaring gargoyle. 

Inside, the castle was a labyrinth of environments tangled in weather. Caves and ship decks blended and faded into ruins. Around one corner, a gas giant was spiraling to life. Around another, an asteroid belt fed down a hallway. John guided the small ship like piloting a bubble in the wind, drifting up, slow and delicate. The tracker beeped as the ship approached a platform high in a light-filled interior chamber. John took a shaky breath when the four children came into view. They sat in a circle on the ground in front of a massive machine.

“Ah, John Crichton. Scorpius. We are pleased you came to us of your own volition.” The voice boomed in the ship’s cabin.

“You’re welcome. Our pleasure.” John said with an edge. The Stryker landed.

The socket was a giant metal brick that took up most of the platform. On one side, there was a booth with headgear in a glowing glass tube large enough to fit a Nebari. Panels and panels of switches and screens glowed throughout the machine. Nebari still sat in their positions managing the device, but each had Iracundia’s eyes. John left the Stryker with his axe. Scorpius left with nothing. It was immediately apparent that John’s wormhole computer was not on the platform. Their plan was immediately sunk. 

John swallowed nervously and put on a false smile. “Iracundia, I see you’ve been busy.”

“Yes John,” It said in unison. “You have also been busy. I can’t alter you, Scorpius, or your ship for some reason. What have you been up too?” Despite this news, Ira had a condescending expression, lifted chins and smirks. “It’s no matter. Have you come to donate your mind?”

“I think you have more than enough to handle.”

“Hardly.” Iracundia smiled broader.

“John.” Scorpius hissed lowly. A crowd of Nebari walked out from behind the socket and began to pace towards them casually. The fight was brief despite John’s axe killing the first wave. It was difficult to intimidate the bodies, and even when some were moments from death, they would still wander forward, grab at John and Scorpius. They were swarmed easily, arms pinned, and forced to kneel. Multiple hands held firmly on each joint.

Zhaan stepped forward with a sharp wire. “I’m not sure what to do with you, Scorpius. You cannot embrace me, but John Chrichton?” Iracundia pricked her palm, drawing blood. “John Crichton will have the privilege to become me.”

A Nebari bracing John dragged out his wrist, and his arm clenched fretfully as he tried to yank it back. “Go fuck yourself.” 

But Zhaan plunged the contaminated wire into his forearm. His eyes clouded dimly as his head dropped. Like back on Drolnatlund, a web cracked into existence around John’s head and disappeared as his head lifted.

Scorpius was holding his breath. A new fear had descended on him. He was afraid _for_ someone else. It would be just as he expected, to spend this insane, spiraling journey coming to terms with himself and his nemesis, only to meet his end because of his inability to think of a plan. He had failed himself, and he had failed John. As he mentally lashed himself, he missed Iracundia’s reaction to John’s unclouding eyes.

Iracundia was perturbed. It squinted at John. Zhaan backed up.

John spoke softly but firmly. “It’s time to go home, child. You’ve had your fun. We’ve been looking for you.” His voice was a similar baritone to Iracundia, but the cadence was slow like attempting to soothe a cornered animal. The feverish glimmer in his eyes was yellow.

Iracundia grimaced with rage. “No!” The Nebari holding John’s body winced away from him in droves. “No! I’m not going back. You can’t make me.”

John, free now, stood swiftly. “Child, please.” It sounded weary and disappointed.

Iracundia’s rage rolled out of him in waves. The universe prickled. The floor was rippling with needle-sharp protrusions. “You don’t care about me! Why are you pretending!?”

“I took an oath, child. I swore to keep you safe. What happened was a tragedy. Your life has been hard, but I hope to help you through this. Please. Come home.” This new entity offered Iracundia John’s open hand. 

However, Iracundia was rattled with anger. Sharp protrusions broke off the ground like snapped glass and flew towards John. 

The adult creature broke them away with some strange force. The shards shattered before reaching John. “This isn’t a discussion. You either come back with me and receive my protection or you face the counsel alone. I want you to make it to adulthood, but these acts can’t be taken lightly. You’ve attacked another dimension.”

“This galaxy was attacking themselves!” Iracundia raged. “They’re dumb, stupid ants! You don’t care about them either! Go away!” The platform was crumbling, chunks of the castle swirled in the air around the children. They sharpened to points in flight, before flinging individually at the second being.

“Enough of this!” John snapped. He flexed his offered hand, and the socket cracked like an egg. Light shimmered out of it, blasting out the console and screens. Sparks flew. The device pitted with melted metal and flames. Scorpius’s black box tumbled out of its innards, uninjured. 

The Nebari collectively collapsed in piles. The castle sucked out of existence with a satisfactory pop. Scorpius remained kneeled but now in a common, unimpressive Nebari lab facility. 

Everything appeared back to normal, except that in the moments after the socket blew, John was run through with a shard. “Oh.” The entity’s voice still spoke. “Oh, this hurts.” It touched the entry point, and John’s fingers came back bloody. “Child. Please. What is the point of this? What of your friends? It's no one’s fault your family is gone. Life can be cruel. I’m only trying to help.”

“I don’t need them! I don’t need you! Just pretend I’m dead! I’m sure it’ll be easier for everyone!” The child railed. “I’m going to get you out of that body you know. Piece by piece if I have to.”

Scorpius saw the abandoned axe. The children were completely invested in destroying John. They were swarming like wasps. They had either forgotten about him or thought he was below their concern. The box lay haphazardly on the floor.

He picked up the axe. Knocking out the socket had not banished the entity, Iracundia, but perhaps it would leave if he overloaded the children. They were back to four brains, and there was one thing in the room that would be difficult to stop. It had been there this entire time. The potential energy of the thing was incredible. In a thousand universes it was probably still a black hole. His safety wasn’t a concern. Send the creature back to the dark horizon. Stop it from dissecting John. Get it out of this galaxy. It took microts to approach the box, and without pause, he slammed the axe down into it. The black shell split like firewood.

Radiation detonated out in a blast that peeled the shell like a grenade. Scorpius suit melted into his boiled skin. Like taking a match to tinder, his brain began to ignite and smolder. As he sank, nerveless now, down onto the floor, he felt boneless. The radiation immediately vanished. He could see D'Argo stagger, hand outstretched as he fell forward on his face heavily.

Afterward, time slowed. He wasn’t breathing. He was positive his brain was liquifying and that this time drag was his brain synapses failing. It seemed to take an hour to blink. When his crisp eyes reopened, Harvey was there.

“Hello, lover.” He crouched over him. “You look like shit.”

“What are you doing here?” When Scorpius spoke his mouth cracked like a stone. 

“Protocol number one! Prevent the host from dying! But there is nothing I can do. You frelled yourself. I thought you were averse to dying? What was so special about this case?” Harvey glanced around, saw the unconscious bodies of the children and the skewered John Crichton. “Ah. I see.”

Scorpius spit up blood, maybe his chest was collapsing his lungs. It didn’t matter anymore. Everyone died eventually. “Some help you were.”

Harvey tsked at him. “So bitter. What was I supposed to do exactly?” He looked back at John. “Took you some time to realize you loved that idiot. I thought you’d have puzzled that out long before this whole suicidal episode.”

Scorpius groaned. “I didn’t do this for John.”

“Sure you didn’t.” Harvey was grinning with all his sharp teeth.

Scorpius closed his eyes tightly. He thought about crying, which he likely hadn’t done since he was a child in Tauza’s care. If his tear ducts existed into adulthood, they weren’t working now either. “Why didn’t you tell me I loved him?”

“You didn’t want to hear it. I might have suggested it a few times.” Harvey stroked Scorpius’s head. “It’ll be okay. Imagine if you never figured it out. You’d be lying here thinking you couldn’t love anything. How unfortunate would that be?”

Knowledge was always enlightening to Scorpius, any crumb helped, but his ability to love was aborted. It had been dragged painfully from him and now, as he lay dying, had no hope of flourishing. He had discovered his capability only to have a few arns to experience it. So far, it was wretched. Perhaps death was better for him.

“Wrong, love is great. At your core, you love your mom. It’s been there forever. It motivated you to destroy the Scarrans, remember? That was years of your life. It wasn’t revenge, you dingus. It was love. You’ve always been capable of it. You just saved the universe. What motivated you to do that?”

Scorpius lost his ability to speak, even mentally. Harvey faded.

.

.

.

.

Darkness settled dreamily over everything, but then like a curtain being drawn back for the dawn light, his eyes reopened.

Xhalax was teary-eyed kneeling next to him. “Hi.” 

“Hi.” Scorpius’s voice cracked. He sat up quickly. This entire day was going to give him a heart attack. 

Xhalax fell into his shoulder and bawled. He dumbly patted her back, while he tried to mentally catch up. Had he died? The box was nowhere to be seen. John lay crumpled several motras away. Xhalax continued to sob. Scorpius was too tired to care that this behavior previously would have made him uncomfortable. When she settled after some time, he asked dimly. “Was I dead?”

Xhalax shook her head into his shoulder. “No. You were dying. It’s easier.”

“John is dead then.”

She nodded, lifted her face to paw at her tear-red eyes and snotty nose. “I’ll need everyone else to wake up before I want to try.”

Scorpius’s chest throbbed. He felt miserable despite this positive outcome. “What are the odds?”

Xhalax was obviously ill. She was ghostly pale. Her cheeks hollowed. “You’re alive, so the odds are better.”

Scorpius frowned. “Oh?”

“Iracundia.” She said quietly. “We saw so much.” She clutched her head. “I don’t want to think about it.” She curled back into him.

It was several hundred microts before all of John’s children woke. They staggered to their feet, exhausted, and took turns comforting each other. When they had finally bolstered themselves, they hobbled over to John. The four of them gripped each other in a tight, desperate hug, and without letting a breath of space in, they reached out one of their hands, laid them on their deceased father. 

Nothing happened for some time, then John gasped awake, fumbled over his missing mortal wound. His children broke out into blinding smiles, eyes wet with relief. John was gobsmacked for a long microt, before choking on his own surprised sobs. He dragged them all to him and kissed them all individually. Their own communal joy splintered into sobs and laughter.

Scorpius left the room. He either wanted to give the united family some space or wanted to give himself some space from the family, but he was too mentally knotted to tell which was true. The Nebari laboratory had a familiar layout, and he found the exit after only a few wrong turns. It was an unremarkable planet, dull, rocky taiga. The air outside was brisk. It smelled sweet though, some plant in the biome was likely blooming. He attempted to collect his fragmented brain for the umpteenth time that day. He was alive. John was alive. His children were alive and back to normal.

Not only that, but the galaxy appeared back to normal. What of those infected by the contagion? He had completely forgotten to check the pulse on any of the Nebari speckling the socket chamber. He had the sense that the infected were also recovering. Maybe Iracundia would simply be a strange dream to the few that remembered.

His mind drifted long, watching the blooming succulent fields. A telltale crunch of footsteps alerted him that he wasn’t alone anymore. He glanced back.

John was smiling joyously with all his children in tow. They were emotionally raw, but their relief was palpable. It eclipsed their fatigue. “You want a ride? I’ll take you anywhere you want to go. It's on me.”

“Shall we check on the Resistance?” Scorpius had nowhere specific to go. It was uncommon he ever did.

“Good idea. I think Moya should be in orbit. I’d die for a bed right now.”

Scorpius sighed. He was pleased this world had beds. And yes, Moya had brought the box here initially. Perhaps it was currently a short trip away.

“Hey kiddos, go get on the Stryker. I’ll be right behind you.” John’s children broke off slowly and trundled across the field. When they were several paces away, John turned to Scorpius. “Uh, Scorpy?”

“Yes, John?” He couldn’t stop sighing. 

John scratched the back of his head and glanced off. “I can’t believe I’m going to say this to you, but.” He turned back haltingly. “Thank you. For real, thank you for everything. It's hard to believe,” He gestured to the planet, the sky, his retreating children. “That this is real and happening. I owe you.”

Scorpius considered the ground with a small smile, then smirked at John. “Mmm. Don’t forget it. As much as I’d love for you to grovel more, I’d rather leave this planet and perhaps drink something very strong.”

John’s face was about to crack from all his smiling. “Now you're speaking my language! Come on. I’m buying.” John slung his arm around Scorpius’s shoulder, and together they walked back to the ship.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So...It's not actually over! I'm going to write a short epilogue for this. I also have two more smut chapters in Black Mirror.


	6. Epilogue

She easily faded into the shadows and bodies of the surging market crowd. High above her, through the atmosphere dome, the sky was clear and dark. This city was called Epiloda-12. It wouldn’t see real light for another twelve cycles. She never understood why anyone built cities on asteroids, especially ones with such broad orbits. 

Epiloda wasn’t her original destination anyway. She had landed here for its darkness and crowds. Recently she completed a job nearby. It was a simple one; easy, quick, with no bystanders. When it was done, she needed to disappear. Epiloda was conveniently nearby.

The market was only lit with flickering neon signs. The surging crowd was painted with colors and dark shadows. Around her, food stalls brimmed with smoking grills, where the still-living creatures skewered and roasted would scream until cooked dead. Despite the horror involved, the morsels smelled divine. She took big filling inhales and let her mouth water. By the morning arns, the stalls would be gone, but she resisted her hunger pains for now. The night arns had barely begun. She’d have time.

As a child, her sister told her about Tortuga, the pirate island from the book Treasure Island. Epiloda reminded her of that, but galactically. On this asteroid, the people passing around her had fangs or tentacles or antennae, six eyes, metal arms, three legs, or blue skin, feathers, or scales, small or large, or any combination of all the above. She loved it. A cephalopod shared skewers with a dog man. A twelve-foot-tall feathered person sucked bites off a plate offered by a cyborg. Even some old pirate island on Earth and her sister’s rich description couldn’t compare to this. Every creature here was so unique and special!

Sadly she wasn’t. She was so boring! No one believed she was a hybrid with the way she looked. Two pink arms, two pink legs, two boring eyes in an equally boring head! So Sebacean it hurt! If it wasn’t for her height, she’d appear straight from the Peacekeeper ranks. At a whopping 5’ 3” or sixty-three dench, there was no way she was the result of the PK breeding program. Not that she considered her petite form a benefit. On one lovely occasion, some frell asked if she was thrown down the garbage shoot at birth, and that’s why she wasn’t kicking ass on a command carrier. She didn’t think he missed having a second tongue.

However, her size did help her blend in. Despite disliking her forgettable appearance, it helped her work. She wore unadorned armor, dark and practical. Her hair she never changed, always cropped. In a spurt of defiance against her own simplicity, a few years back she got a tattoo of red diamond shapes on her neck. Her parents threw a fit about it. Honestly, she liked their response. It was pleasant to keep them on their toes. After all, she was the least impressive offspring, so she might as well be the nefarious one. 

Her only other attention grabber was the compound bow strapped to her back. It wasn’t notable by itself but sometimes some passerby would catch an appendage in the bowstring and howl. It was the wrong kind of attention.

When she landed on Epiloda, the public transport had dropped her at the depot and a nice Nebari gave her directions to a hotel. She liked the idea of changing clothes and taking a hot bath before eating. She turned away from the market. The crowds thinned out as she turned corner after corner until only a few stragglers weaved down the tall alleys. 

It was then that she got a creeping sensation that she was being followed. It wasn’t uncommon that she’d pick up a tail in a crowd, she was a wanted person after all. Not to mention, less than a few arns ago she had killed someone. Her hand went to a knife hilt at her rib.

“I’ve been following you for three hundred microts. You’re rusty.”

She spun on her heel and threw the knife. It embedded itself in a wall denches from a shadowed corner. For a microt there was no movement, and then a hand reached out to wrench the knife from the wall.

“Now Xhalax. No need to be upset about it.”

“How dare you. I’m not rusty, I knew you were there! That’d be in your skull if I wasn’t so nice.”

“Be careful. I might get the sneaking suspicion you enjoy my company.” From the shadows stepped a white-skinned, black-enveloped man. He wore a long cloak of reptilian scales and shiny, belted sleeves and pants, but contrary to his normal look, his head was exposed. The side of his temple still had a metallic cap with a red light, but she had expected a black hood and mask, which was freshly absent.

She smiled, fascinated to see his entire skull for the first time. “Do you ever age, Scorpius?”

“You tell me. It hasn’t been that long has it?”

“It’s always been too long.” Xhalax closed the distance quickly and hugged him wide-armed. Due to her height, her head came up to his chest. He had the generosity to bend down. She stepped back after a breath, looked him over. “New suit?”

Xhalax knew Scorpius well enough to read his micro-expressions. He was practically preening, but his gestures were so controlled anyone unfamiliar with him would think he was completely unaffected. “I’ve decided it would be beneficial if I didn’t rely on my temperature suit as much as I have in the past,” Xhalax noted that there was a line of black that ran from the metallic cap on his skull down under the collar of his cloak. It was embedded in his skin. 

“It _suits_ you.” She beamed up at him.

Scorpius scowled, which was often his smile. “A pun? Now into your early twenties, and already you’ve adopted your father’s humor.”

“Haha. Very funny. Also early twenties my ass, I’m not yet twenty.” It was her turn to scowl.

Scorpius radiated amusement. “Can’t remember your own birthday?” 

Xhalax squinted at his blue confident eyes, challenging him for a microt, then she recoiled. "Oh, that's today, isn't it? Oh." She flattened her mouth. How embarrassing. Why couldn’t she keep dates straight? It must have to do with wormholes or something. Dates were irrelevant. Then she realized. "Wait, hold on. Did you purposely come find me for my birthday?"

"No. It's auspicious timing naturally." His lip edge kept curling up his jawline.

She crossed her arms and glared. “Give me my knife back you liar.” He passed it over. “If it’s my birthday,” she looked back in the direction of the night market. “Buy me dinner."

Where to even begin with Scorpius! She’d known him almost her entire life. Even when she was small she knew there was a lot of bad blood between him and her parents. Scorpius was something that her parents would whisper about late at night. He was a phantom in her father’s bedtime stories. He was a wanted war criminal whose hologram appeared at the town bounty stations.

The day her father’s monster appeared in her living room was a day she would never forget. After all, he didn't look frightening. He looked like a hybrid. She was a hybrid. And all of her siblings had the same weird itch to hear what a monster sounded like, but his voice was underwhelming. He sounded bored, as affected by monsoon season as anyone. It was too humanizing. 

Then there was Iracundia, a true monster that overwhelmed their minds and made them _do_ things. She remembered everything about the encounter. She also remembered each one of her siblings' thoughts, and even worse, Iracundia’s. Her childhood innocence was blown to smithereens. 

Scorpius was there when she came out of it. He was so irradiated he was practically choking on his own liquifying body. Despite her brittle mind and bleeding nose, she knew saving him was something she could manage. He was healed.

After Iracundia, when her family reunited and resettled, sometimes Scorpius would visit. Even as a child gifted with hyper-awareness, she never really understood the dynamics that went into his sudden appearances. He always seemed to know where they were. The first few times he arrived, her parent’s hesitancy hovered like a dark cloud, but John, her father, would eventually cave, and Scorpius would stay for dinner. He became a bit like Santa Claus, someone that only came around once a cycle, but was always nice to see.

Eventually, she started running away. This had nothing to do with Scorpius. She was a troubled teenager. Her view of this dimension was warped by three other people and a creature that hated everything. Her sense of self was splintered, and she wanted to see if anything in the galaxy didn’t inspire her disdain. 

On one memorable occasion, Scorpius had found her, angry and dirty in the streets of some forsaken place. Instead of dragging her back to her family, he listened calmly to her spitting rage and then suggested she find a person named Katoya. He was right, Katoya was more helpful than her parents. 

After that, she would serendipitously run into Scorpius. She was positive it was because of her powers. Not that she was actively seeking him. She wasn’t assembling him in space like the shards of a broken glass. He and she would simply arrive at the same destination, shocked but secretly pleased. And often the timing was so outlandish she had to believe her powers played some role. Once he fell into her ramshackle apartment through the ceiling and she swore it was because she was thinking about him.

Later her mental fractures healed, her identity formed, and she felt stable again. Sure, she was an assassin-for-hire, but it paid the bills and kept her sane. Once upon a time, her mother was an assassin too. Xhalax was raised in a criminal household as well. Being an assassin wasn’t a completely unacceptable career choice although it did make her parents unhappy. The only thing Scorpius had to say about it was “keep it quick. Keep it clean. Unless they really deserve it.” Xhalax swore by those words.

So it wasn’t unimaginable that Scorpius found her on an obscure asteroid colony, twenty years after her birth, quietly dodging a murder. At this point, it was almost expected.

They went back to the night market. Despite Scorpius’s notoriety, no one paid any extra attention to him. Epiloda was truly a backwater. Everyone here was a criminal. They picked a cart with available seating. The meal cooking on the griddle was green noodles and a crustacean with an alarming number of limbs. Xhalax ordered that.

Scorpius resisted talking about himself during these visits. Xhalax saw his refusal to share his life as a challenge, and sometimes, if she was agile enough, she could get him to divulge little bits of information, but this took time. Normally she spent a good part of their interactions talking ad nauseam about herself, which didn’t seem to bother him.

So it also wasn’t unimaginable that once they were settled along the bar and had ordered, she started with what she knew would get a rise out of him.

“I’m a lesbian.”

He raised his eyebrows and said “Oh?” 

“Yeah ‘Oh’. All you have to say is ‘oh’?” She glared at his infuriatingly blank face for a microt but then her focus splintered. She put her head down on the bar. “My dad is going to kill me.”

“I can’t imagine John killing you for any reason whatsoever.” Scorpius was very matter-of-fact when it came to her dad.

“Dammit, you know my dad. He’s super into this whole ‘leaving a legacy’ crap.”

“I’d like to point out that you being a lesbian doesn’t prevent you from producing children. You didn’t expect…” He waved a hand in the air, “criticism from me or anything like that, did you? I think my reaction is completely sufficient.”

She sighed. “You are the first person I’ve told. I sorta expected it to be a big deal.”

“Surely I’m not the first person you’ve told?” He tilted his head sharply.

She felt the heat rise in her face. “No-o. I suppose not.” She meant the first member of her family, but she wasn’t going to tell that to Scorpius. She had very little idea of how that would come across to him. She was doing a great job of being too vulnerable already. But he had his own hybrid powers, so he knew her statement wasn’t a lie. That it meant something unspoken.

She pushed onward. “My girlfriend knows obviously.”

And finally, Scorpius understood that she wanted to talk about it. He relented. “Tell me about her.” 

Her name was Inez and she was a Relgarian. She had white skin and white hair and eye markings in the shape of crescents. Her forehead stone was green. She smiled at everything.

They had met two cycles ago, but Xhalax was exceptionally shy toward her. Inez was so radiant whereas Xhalax felt like a burning powderkeg. She didn’t want to open her mouth and say something demonically frightening to this gentle spirit. Inez worked in the health clinic on a cruising city barge, and since Xhalax was passing through due to an unfortunate bar brawl, her natural intensity cloaked her nervousness. She said nothing but burned with the desire to tell Inez she was the prettiest woman she’d ever seen with the softest hands she’d ever felt and so pleasantly welcoming too.

For a whole cycle she couldn’t stop thinking about her until low and behold, Xhalax ended up on the same barge in a similar brawl and was back in Inez’s clinic. Fancy that. This time, Xhalax at least asked for her preferred method of contact. She was so red in the face she thought she was suffocating. Inez later told her she found it charming.

They lived together now, which was a daily shock for Xhalax. Even when she was working, the very thought of someone she liked waiting for her return at home made her feel invincible. But every now and then the thought convinced her she didn’t deserve this new affection.

“I get worried that she’s almost too nice. Am I going to turn her mean and cynical just standing next to her? I’m always stumped as to what she sees in me. But then she gets so incredibly angry that I’d even ask, and I’m reminded I also like her because she won’t accept cruelty, even to myself.” Xhalax imagined she had a dopey-look on her face. During her story, the food had arrived. She hid her expression in her noodle bowl.

“Ah, you love her.” Scorpius was a contrary figure. He could sound disinterested while adding spices to his food, and at the same time, Xhalax never doubted his full attention was on her.

“I’d pull all the stars from the sky to make a crown for her.” Xhalax struggled to keep the waver from her voice. “But she wouldn’t want to wear it.”

“You’re a romantic!” This was the first time he had sounded surprised during their entire encounter.

Xhalax flushed. “Yeah, I guess. Frell. Love is awful isn’t it?”

Scorpius focused his sharp eyes back on her. “Is it?”

Xhalax felt like a child put on the spot in a class. “No. It’s not.” She played with her utensils. “I’m just afraid I’m going to lose it.”

“Good. Keep that fear.” Scorpius burned with intensity for a microt. His tone was almost a threat, but he softened at last. “And please don’t destroy the universe with romantic overtures.” 

Xhalax laughed until she cried. “Okay. Okay. You win. That’s fair. As if.” She wiped the tears with her thumb. “But enough about me! Word on the street is that you have a girlfriend?”

Scorpius choked on his mouthful. His composure shattered for one milli-microt in sheer alarm, but his composure snapped into place almost as fast as he lost it. “Where did you hear that?”

“I think Cremelon?” She was glowing with delight even as she attempted to smother her smile. “It’s part of my job to know the latest gossip. How else would I know who wants who killed?”

“You gossip about me?” Scorpius hissed.

Her eyebrows knitted together fiercely. “No, I _listen_. I don’t stir the pot. You don’t think I share what you tell me with other people do you?”

He immediately relaxed. “No, I don’t.”

Because Xhalax knew better than to lie to him. “Good. Because I would never. Ever. But it’s true? You’re dating a cage-fighting Russian?”

Scorpius sighed, but after a long pause, he contributed. “I’m sure not all of what you’ve heard is true. And she’s Siberian. She has reservations about being called Russian. Who did you hear this from? It has caused some problems for me.”

Most of the time, Xhalax rarely heard any information about Scorpius in the greater galaxy. He hadn’t been a popular topic since the Nebari Contagion. So when his name came up in a bar on Cremelon, she had to insert herself. The gossip was brief. This ‘Natalia’ wasn’t an official bounty. Someone was illegally offering a lot of credits for Scorpius’s girlfriend. Xhalax had followed the lead, but it was quickly a dead end. So she guessed. “Oh-hoho? Jealous ex?”

Scorpius scowled. It was absolutely not one of his smiles.

Now Xhalax was surprised. “Wait seriously?”

“Perhaps it was fortunate I ran into you.”

“Fortune is practically my middle name baby,” She smirked. 

Scorpius’s scowl deepened, but now it was tinged with affection. “Could you find someone for me? He has an unknown number of bioloid clones. His duplicates have made it challenging to find the original.”

“When I find him do you want me to kill him? Clear things right up with your girlfriend.”

“No, Xhalax, only find him. Track him. Tell me where he is. Do this in complete secrecy.”

She slid him a paper wrapper and a chewed pencil nub. “Write what you know.” He wrote quickly, and when it was done passed it back. Xhalax read it with professional scrutiny. When she sat back, she used her powers to light the scrap of paper on fire. In a flash, it was reduced to ashes. “You got it. He’s as good as found. As for my rates, I’ll give you a family and friends discount.”

Scorpius truly smiled then, a small one, but there. “That is very generous. You know where to send the bill.” 

Business adjourned, they diverted their conversation to less heavy topics and finished their meal. Scorpius paid the meager cost before they returned to the bustling crowd and dawdled to Xhalax’s original destination, the hotel. Scorpius wasn’t staying in Epiloda. He had somewhere else to be before the morning arns. Still, he escorted her back down the alley to the hotel. His odd chivalry always caught her off guard.

At this point in the visit, they had nothing left to say to each other. They walked in amiable silence. It was very late now. The stragglers that speckled these back streets earlier were gone. Scorpius and Xhalax were completely alone, which to a normal city-dweller would be the time to clutch their belongings close and hurry home. So when the gang appeared, neither Scorpius or Xhalax were surprised.

They were a block from the hotel in a particularly narrow and dark stretch of road. The gang members quickly filled in their escape routes. They were Grudeks, which was obvious from their forehead piercings flashing in the low light.

The leader carried an augmented pulse rifle. The weapon was ungainly in his hands, but he pointed it at them. “What a fine pair, you two look rich. Hand it over. Nice and easy.” The gang members behind Scorpius and Xhalax rattled their own makeshift weapons in threat.

Scorpius cast an eye at Xhalax, who cast it back. Then they both laughed. 

The leader lugged the rifle at them. “Hey! Shut your traps this is serious! Money! Now!”

“I’m sorry.” Xhalax giggled to the furious Grudek. “But you’re going to have to work for it.” Then she smirked at Scorpius, “Do you want in on this? It would be easy for me.”

Scorpius scoffed. “I’m sure. Show me what you can do.”

Xhalax grinned and the leader’s bloated gun exploded. In the confusion and smoke that followed, Xhalax loaded her bow.


End file.
